


Hate Me, Love Me

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: A bit of Preller on the side, Alternate Universe - High School, Brownham, CHILANA, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Preller, Sexual Content, Student is 18 so it is not underage, Teacher-Student Relationship, margrounds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 07:29:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 42,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1770787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will comes to a new school for his final semester before graduation, expecting a completely average school year. But it turns out to be everything but that after a meeting with the school's guidance counsellor, Hannibal Lecter.</p><p>Alana never really was one to spend all her time with friends. Instead, she liked to focus on her schoolwork. Perhaps a bit too much.</p><p>Margot is head over heels in love with her girlfriend, Freddie, and she is desperate to keep her safe, and that means lying to her. And lying a lot.</p><p>ON HIATUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dirty Town

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea for this fic while listening to songs by Mother Mother, so I will be naming every chapter after a song of theirs that best reflects the events. Feel free to give the songs a listen!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will goes to his first day of his new school

He wasn’t one to make friends quickly. It’s hard to make friends when you move around a lot. And you wouldn’t think so, but every single school has kids that are completely different. From a distance, they all seem the same. The students form cliques that don’t really make sense and each one of them thinks they’re original. Luckily enough for Will, cliques were never an issue for him. He wasn’t a particularly social person, and he didn’t try to impress other students to get them to like him. At least not in years.

But when you get closer, you see differences. Some schools love the athletes. Others love the musicians. It was impossible to know what the right thing to say was. Another lucky thing for Will is that he was in AP classes. For the most part, that meant the same few smart kids in all of his classes so there was not nearly as much pressure to get to know people because they will all know each other eventually.

The new school was insignificant. It was on the smaller side, with little in the way of diversity, located in a small town in Maryland, where Will now had to spend the second semester of his final year of high school. The hallways were painted an obnoxiously bright white and it took Will’s eyes awhile to adjust when he entered as he walked towards the principal’s office. The tiled floors were cracked and the lockers were dented with chipped paint. Everything about the place was depressing, even if the fact that it was a high school wasn’t considered.

The secretary told Will that the principal would be with him momentarily so he waited on one of the chairs lining the passageway towards the principal’s office. They were old and torn, but so worn out that they had become comfortable. Will could hear the bellowing voice of the principal on the other side of the door, but couldn’t make out the words. He looked at the sign on the door reading _P. Crawford._ He ran his eyes over every single line and curve, seeing if he could count all the scratches that covered the bronze letters. He had to squint his eyes behind his glasses, but could see them for the most part. He had gotten to seventeen scratches by the fourth letter when the door swung open. The principal, a tall man whose aura screamed authority, stood by the door. “I had better not see you in here any time soon, Mr. Brown,” he said to the boy leaving his office.

The boy was holding an ice pack to his bloody lips. Will watched him as he left. He was tall and his muscles were well defined underneath his close-fitting shirt. He stared right back at Will with bright, round eyes. Will ducked his head in embarrassment, but not before he saw the smile starting to form on the other boy’s face as he walked by him.

“Mr. Graham,” said Principal Crawford, bringing Will back to the moment. “Come in.”

Will took his seat as Crawford pulled out the transfer papers. They had met briefly when Will had first transferred, but today was the first day of classes and Crawford had wanted to welcome him personally and do the normal things like go over school rules.

After speaking for ten minutes about things that Will had heard time and time again, Crawford asked him how he felt about transferring into a new school so close to graduating.

Will shrugged. “I guess I’m used to it by now,” he said. “It’s my fifth move in four years.”

Crawford nodded. “Then let’s hope that your last move will be when you leave for college.”

Will nodded. “Is that all, sir?”

“Actually, no,” said Crawford. “I want you to meet regularly with the guidance counsellor.”

“What?!” Will said suddenly. “Why?”

Crawford didn’t react to Will’s sudden change in tone. “I spoke with the principal of your previous school and she let me know that you have trouble being social and making friends. I think it would be good for you to speak with the counsellor.”

“I don’t need help making friends, sir,” said Will defensively.

“Then you can speak about other things at the meetings.”

“But I don’t see why I have—”

“Mr. Graham,” Crawford said stubbornly, “The only thing that will come from your arguing with me is that I will get frustrated and displeased. And you won’t like me when I am frustrated and displeased. Understand?”

Will clenched his teeth and nodded.

“Your first meeting with Mr. Lecter will be tomorrow after school,” Crawford said, handing Will a pink slip with the appointment on it. “I really think this will be good for you.”

Will frowned, but took the slip from him.

“Welcome to John Hopkins High School, Mr. Graham,” said Crawford. “That will be all.”

“Yes, sir,” Will said, leaving the office. He walked past the secretaries in the office, thankful that they had been working at the school long enough to have their souls crushed and no longer smile at the students that come and leave the office.

It was lunch period. Will hadn’t come to the first two classes of the day. He hadn’t particularly wanted to.

He walked into the cafeteria to buy something to eat and groaned when he saw that it was full of people. At the last school he went to, the cafeteria was almost always empty and Will had always found it relaxing. He slumped and walked over to the line-up.

As he waited, a girl in a red leather jacket came up and stood behind him. She smiled at him. “Hey,” she said.

Will nodded at her.

“New?” She asked.

Will exhaled. “Is it that obvious?” he asked.

The girl shrugged. “It’s not that big a school.” When Will didn’t reply, she stuck out her hand. “I’m Beverly Katz,” she introduced.

Will raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know kids still shook hands,” he commented, taking her hand. “I’m Will.”

“Are you in AP classes?” she asked.

“Uh, yea,” said Will. “How did you—”

“You just look like you belong in an AP class.”

Will looked down at his plaid button-down, worn out jeans, and torn shoes. “Uhm…how?”

“Don’t worry about it,” dismissed Beverly. “Come sit by us when you get your food.”

Will was taken aback. He hadn’t expected someone to come up to him and try to befriend him on his first day. Or at all, really. This was definitely a first.

Beverly pointed to two boys sitting at a table who seemed to be bickering over their food. “I’m over there with those two idiots,” she said. “That’s Brian and Jimmy. We think they’re secretly dating but no one knows for sure because we have no clue if Brian is actually gay or not, so don’t ask.”

“We?”

“Everyone in AP classes,” explained Beverly. “Don’t worry, though, there’s only, like, fifteen of us. Like I said, it’s a small school.”

“Oh.”

With that, Beverly turned and went back to her seat. Will watched as she sat down next to the taller of the boys and smacked him over the head with her hand. Will smirked. Beverly seemed like a pretty cool person, so even if everyone else at the school was a complete douchebag, at least there’s Beverly.

 _And maybe if I befriend her, I won’t have to go to fucking guidance_ , thought Will as he bought his food and started walking towards Beverly’s table. He felt awkward approaching it alone, especially since no one was looking towards him as he walked. Will took a deep breath. Despite constantly having to introduce himself to new people in all of his schools, meeting new people still terrified him.

Beverly introduced him to Brian and Jimmy. Jimmy was very open towards Will, asking questions about him, whereas Brian didn’t seem to take a liking to Will straight away and didn’t acknowledge him for the most part. Will couldn’t decide which he liked better.

“So you moved here from Virginia, then? Do you miss it a lot?” Jimmy asked.

Will shrugged. “Not all that much. I lived in the middle of nowhere before.”

“Ah, so you moved from the middle of nowhere to the middle of nowhere, then?”

“Hey, Jim,” Brian interrupted before Will could respond, “Do you think Chilton will be less of a dick this semester?”

Jimmy frowned. “I doubt it. He’s been a dick the last two years, so why would he change?”

“Do you guys mean Mr. Chilton, the chemistry teacher?” Asked Will.

“Yes. He also teaches physics and biology,” said Beverly, “If you value your life, call him Dr. Chilton. He’s very proud of his PhD.”

Brian chuckled. “Which is why he’s a teacher at a shitty high school.”

“He’s a total asshole and no one likes him,” said Jimmy. “We’ve all had him for every science subject since the tenth grade. Expect a lot of mental torture and hypocrisy if you have him.”

“I do have him,” said Will, frowning, “Next period.”

“So do we,” Beverly said, smiling. “We can all sit together.”

Will agreed. Jimmy smiled. Brian frowned.

After lunch had finished, Will walked with Beverly to class five feet behind Jimmy and Brian. She talked to him about the school: that it was dingy and poor, but that was alright because they still have great AP classes so getting into a good college was not as hard as you would think.

The classroom was set up in rows of single desks. When the group walked in, they went straight towards the right side of the room, where a small, dark-haired girl sat alone.

“Hey, Alana,” greeted Jimmy, sitting in front of her. “We missed you at lunch.”

“Oh, I was at the library,” explained Alana, looking up from the book in her hands. She had bright blue eyes and a kind face. _Fucking gorgeous_ , thought Will.

“Seriously? But we _just_ started the semester,” said Jimmy. “Literally. This literally is our actual first day of the semester. What on earth are you studying for?”

Alana made a face at him. “Something called college applications, Jimmy,” she said. “Pre-med isn’t exactly an easy field.” She then noticed Will. “Hi,” she said.

Will could feel his ears turning red. “H-hi,” he stammered.

“I’m Alana.” She offered him her hand.

“Ah. More hand-shaking,” said Will, taking her hand.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Will just moved here from Virginia,” Beverly said, pulling Will in the seat behind hers so that he sat diagonal from Alana. “Have you started any of your essays yet?”

As the girls spoke, Will pulled his binder out from his bag, causing his pink slip to fall out and land by Alana’s feet. _Shit_.

Alana handed it back to Will with a smile, but not before sneaking a peek at it. “You’re meeting with Hannibal?” She asked.

“Who?”

“Mr. Lecter!” Alana said. “He and my dad are friends so I know him as Hannibal.”

 _His name’s Hannibal_? “Yea, just to talk about credits and stuff,” muttered Will.

“Oh, okay,” Alana said. “I think you’ll like him.”

“Alana, you think everyone will like him,” said Beverly.

“Because he’s awesome!”

“I wouldn’t say awesome,” argued Beverly. “I’d say more along the lines of terrifying.”

Will frowned. “Really? How so?”

“He’s not scary, Will,” Alana said. “Beverly just finds him intimidating.”

“There’s just something about him that I don’t like,” said Beverly. “I mean, he’s nice and everything, but he’s just…creepy to me.”

“I guess I’ll have to see for myself tomorrow, then,” said Will, putting the slip back into his bag.

Just then, a man, who Will could only assume was Dr. Chilton, entered the room. He was in his late 30s, had dark hair, and carried a cane, even though he didn’t have a noticeable limp.

He stood behind his desk and looked down at the attendance sheet with what Will assumed was a permanent scowl on his face. “All right, settle down,” Chilton muttered. “Time to take attendance.”

No introduction, no icebreakers. Chilton went straight into teaching the material. He was one of those teachers that seemed completely unapproachable. Not that you would actually want to speak with him, seeing that he came across as a completely self-obsessed asshole.

Will looked at the back of Beverly’s head. _Well, at least I can talk to her during class_ , he thought. _And maybe even her…_ He snuck a peek at Alana, who looked completely focused on everything Chilton was saying.

After the class was dismissed, Brian and Jimmy left to their own separate classes. Beverly, Will, and Alana all had a free period. Beverly offered Will a drive home, which he accepted.

“Do you want a ride, too?” Beverly asked Alana.

“No, thank you,” said Alana. “I have some things I need to get done. Including talking to Chilton.”

Beverly sucked in air through her teeth. “Oh jeez. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” said Alana, smiling. “I sure as hell need it.”

Beverly led Will out of the classroom and down the hall towards the school parking lot. “Cute, right?” She asked after a moment.

“What?”

“Alana,” said Beverly. “She’s cute, don’t you think?”

“Oh, uh, yea,” said Will. “Sh-she is.”

Beverly smiled. “You need to work on your blushing.”

 _Fuck_. “Was it really that obvious?” He asked sheepishly.

“Only a lot,” said Beverly. “Don’t worry, though. She probably didn’t even notice. For all she knows, you might just have had a skin rash.”

Will groaned. “I guess I should work on that,” he muttered. Then, after a moment, he said, “Would you mind if I asked you to mention to Brian that I’m not gay?”

Beverly looked surprised. “What? Why?”

“He hates me.”

“Yea, he does,” Beverly said, snickering. “He’s not exactly diplomatic. But telling him you’re straight won’t change anything because he’s not homophobic. Jim’s gay and they’re best friends.”

Will smiled. “Actually, they’re very obviously into each other,” he stated.

“You think so too?”

“I know so. Brian would shoot daggers at me with his eyes every time Jim acknowledged my existence.”

“Ah,” said Beverly. “It had always really been a joke that they were a secret couple, but it’s one of those things that can just as easily be a truth, you know?

“Yea.”

“So you thing that if he knows you aren’t gay, then he will stop worrying?” Beverly asked.

“Exactly.”

“But _are_ you gay?” Beverly teased.

“Not since the last time I checked. Hold on, maybe it’s changed,” said Will, squeezing his eyes shut. “Nope,” he said after a moment, “I still like boobs.”

Beverly laughed at that.

Will smiled and opened his eyes, only to accidentally catch someone else’s. It was the boy from Crawford’s office earlier that day—Brown, his name was. Will swallowed, trying to ignore him, but he kept looking back at him. Brown’s lip was busted open and swollen, but he still was giving Will a smile while staring unapologetically at him. He was leaning against the wall by a door with a class still in session. The teacher most likely put him there for being disruptive.

“Will!” He felt Beverly’s hand wrap around his elbow. He looked at her. “I said this way,” she stated, tugging at his arm.

“Oh, sorry,” Will mumbled, following Beverly down an adjacent hallway. He looked over his shoulder at Brown, who only tilted his head to the side and licked his lips. Will felt his pulse speed up in his throat. He turned his back to Brown and hurried after Beverly.


	2. Omen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana talks to her teacher

Alana watched her classmates leave the classroom from her seat. She waited until they were all gone to approach Chilton. After the bell had rung, he had sat down at his desk and took out his laptop. He didn’t properly dismiss the class, just finished his sentence and sat. He did not notice that Alana was still in the room until she was standing in front of his desk.

He straightened up to speak to her, but he didn’t look particularly interested in what she had to say. “Can I help you, Miss Bloom?” He asked.

Alana shifted from one foot to the other. It was no secret that Chilton was…well, mean, and she was nervous to speak with him, which was something she did not often do. But Alana was determined to do well her final school year. Last year, she had gotten a GPA of 4.0 but her first semester this year hadn’t been perfect, so she wanted to start bringing her marks up as soon as she possibly could. “Actually, I was wondering if you had any extra credit assignments I could do,” she said.

Chilton raised an eyebrow. “Your marks will be fine, Miss Bloom,” he said. “You have done exceptionally well in all of the other science courses I have taught.”

“I know, but I was hoping I could bring them up even more before graduation,” she explained.

“You’ll be able to get into a college without a problem as it is,” he muttered, looking back at his computer screen. “You did very well on the SATs.”

“Well, yes,” said Alana hesitantly, “But I want to challenge myself…”

“You’ll be challenged enough in university.”

Alana frowned. “But sir—”

“Miss Bloom, I will not be giving you extra credit,” Chilton said suddenly.

Alana lowered her eyes. “Alright,” she mumbled

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, sir.”

“Good.” He started typing on his laptop, ignoring her, even though she hadn’t moved from her spot in front of his desk.

“May I ask why you don’t want to give extra credit?” Alana asked.

“The mark that a student earns in class should reflect how much they are willing to work,” Chilton said monotonously. “So when I’m asked for extra credit, that’s just a sign of a student that was lazy in class and realized that they’re in trouble.”

“I don’t think that’s very fair, sir,” Alana protested. “Shouldn’t a student be able to make up for marks, even if they weren’t trying their best before?”

“Absolutely not,” said Chilton, visibly irritated. “The fact that schoolwork actually matters shouldn’t be an epiphany. It should be common knowledge. In fact, it is.”

“I hardly think that’s fair,” repeated Alana.

“It doesn’t matter what you think, Miss Bloom,” he snapped. “In any case, this is an advanced placement course and I don’t see why anyone would need extra credit.”

“I just want better opportunities for when—”

“It doesn’t matter what you want, either,” Chilton dismissed with his voice still raised. “You need to stop being so obsessed with these things, Miss Bloom.”

“You need to start caring more about your students’ futures! Why are you even a teacher if you aren’t willing to—”

“I would think very long and hard about the next words out of your mouth, Miss Bloom,” threatened Chilton.

Alana could do nothing but just stare at him.

“That’s what I thought. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to get done,” he said after a moment. “I will see you next class.”

Alana took a deep breath and resisted the urge to shout at him. She turned on her heel and left the classroom, not wanting to let her conversation get her down. She had spoken with her other two teachers earlier today and they had both agreed to give her extra assignments and to help her with college applications.

Chilton was a hypocrite. He said he didn’t give extra credit because students should be working hard already and shouldn’t need it, then he told her she cares too much. How did that even make sense?

This was really the only conversation that she had had with Chilton one-on-one. All the other times they had spoken, she had been around other people. Something about him had always intimidated her, and she had never understood why. She usually got along really well with adults in general, but especially with teachers. They didn’t confiscate her phone if she had it out in class and they didn’t scold her if she was late or had to leave early because they knew how dedicated and hardworking she truly was. Even Principal Crawford didn’t yell at her when she would break rules, even though he yelled at every other student. It was favouritism and it was unfair, but Alana liked to think of it as a reward for her behaviour.

Chilton, on the other hand, had never been nice to her, no matter how well she did in class. It had shaken her quite a bit, but she decided that she was glad that he was treating her just like every other student. That wasn’t a big problem. The problem was how he treated everyone.

 _Fucking douchebag_ , she thought. It was the first time she had thought something so bitter and rude towards a teacher without feeling guilty. _He’s probably just sitting at his desk revelling in how he had made me react to what he said_.

In reality, however, Frederick Chilton had put Alana out of his mind as soon as she left his classroom. After his third year of teaching, he had reached a point where he wasn’t willing to compromise or change his own personal rules for the advantage of any one student. It had been two years since then, and he was still at that point. He sat at his desk, looking over the curriculum he had planned out and passed out during class. He had already planned out two of the five tests he wanted to give, and he had figured out the format of his weekly quizzes.

He was a workaholic. He had had a PhD in biology and in psychology, and a master’s degree in chemistry. So much of his life had been spent studying and to be leaving school did not seem proper. And so he got his bachelor of education and returned to high school to become a teacher. He guest lectured at a nearby university a few times a month, which was how he made any money, but he preferred teaching at a high school because of the routine and structure it provided. It wasn’t the ideal job, but he liked to think that the authority he laid down made the kids respect him.

Not that he really cared what they thought. Even though they were all AP kids, he couldn’t really see any of them doing anything significant with their education. Except Alana Bloom, maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed this chapter to be a filler so I tried to make it as long as I could… Hope it was alright!


	3. The Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will meets Hannibal and Margot

He walked into the guidance office warily the next day, not sure of what to expect. Over the years, Will had never actually bothered to go to counsellors at the school, and no other principal had actually made an appointment for him. No one had cared enough to. But then again, Crawford didn’t seem exactly like the caring type. He probably just wanted to make sure Will was sane.

It was 3:15pm and the janitors were in the hall cleaning. He could hear the radio being played over the boom box from the 90s that the 40-something man had brought in to listen to as he mopped the halls. Will knocked on the door with the sign reading _Hannibal Lecter_ , thinking once again about how fucking weird the name was. The only Hannibal he knew of was that one who crossed the Alps.

“Come in,” said the voice on the other side of the door. It had a heavy accent that Will couldn’t quite place. It was definitely European, but that was as accurate Will could get.

He opened the door and entered to see a tall, broad man sitting at the desk. The first thing Will noticed was how angular his facial features were, with his prominent cheekbones and protruding eyebrow bones. “Have a seat, Mr. Graham,” he said, gesturing to the empty chair across from his desk.

“Please, just call me Will,” he mumbled, slumping down into the chair.

The older man smiled. “Only if you call me Hannibal.” He crossed his hands on the desk and watched Will intently. “Now where would you like to start?”

Will resisted every urge to role his eyes. It wasn’t exactly his idea to come in here and talk. He was all but dragged here by Crawford. Come to think of it, maybe that was a good place to start.

“Principal Crawford thinks I need counselling,” said Will. “He said that I need help making friends, which is bullshit.” He flinched, mentally scolding himself for cursing, but Lecter didn’t seem to mind.

“You don’t think you need help?” asked Lecter.

“I don’t,” said Will.

“So I assume that you’re on the right track, then?”

“Absolutely,” said Will with a smile, hoping that would convince Lecter enough to let him leave.

“Have you made any friends at this school, then?” Asked Lecter.

“Yea! Plenty!”

“Who?”

Will paused. “What?”

“Who are you friends with?” asked Lecter. “I’m curious.”

 _More like you think I’m a liar_ , thought Will bitterly. “Well there’s Beverly for one.”

“What is she like?”

“She’s…nice. And she’s funny. We get along well,” said Will. “She introduced me to my other friends.”

“Who are they?”

“Brian and Jimmy,” Will answered quickly. “Jimmy is really nice and he and Brian are best friends.”

Lecter pursed his lips and nodded. “Is that all, then?”

Will was irritated, but he continued. “Alana Bloom.”

Lecter raised his head slightly.

“You know her,” said Will.

“I do,” confirmed Lecter.

“She’s nice and smart. Quiet,” said Will.

“She’s not so quiet.”

“She’s pretty quiet.”

“May I ask why you’re telling me so much about your new friends?” Lecter asked. “You have only known them for two days, after all.”

Will looked at the guidance counsellor in surprise. “You asked me to talk about them,” he said.

“I didn’t ask you for all this detail,” said Lecter. “What is different about these friends? Are they better than the ones you had before?”

In reality, Will just wanted to prove that he had friends so Lecter and Crawford would leave him alone about it. He didn’t think that it would make Lecter pick up on something that wasn’t there. “I didn’t really have that many friends before,” Will said with a shrug, trying to come across as neutral, “So yea, absolutely.”

“So this is new to you,” stated Lecter.

Will found himself resisting the urge to roll his eyes once again. “Obviously,” he muttered.

“And how did you feel about making friends so quickly?” Lecter asked.

 _So is this a full on therapy sesh now?_ “Well I only really made one friend,” confessed Will. “Everyone else is an acquaintance.”

“Hmmm… but you seem to want to be friends with them,” said Hannibal, eyeing Will attentively, “Particularly Alana.”

Will furrowed his eyebrows. “Not really,” he opposed. “I mean, she’s nice and everything, but I only just met her.”

Hannibal didn’t seem affected by the comment at all. “She’s a pretty girl, isn’t she?” he asked.

“Is this appropriate?” Will responded

Hannibal raised his eyebrows. “If you’re uncomfortable, we can change the conversation,” he offered.

“Please.”

Hannibal smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Have you any idea of what career you want to pursue after graduation?” he asked after a moment.

“I don’t,” Will mumbled.

“You don’t have much time, Will.”

“I know that,” said Will warily. “I’ll figure it out.”

Hannibal pursed his lips and watched Will for a moment. He understood why Beverly didn’t like the man. There was definitely something off about him.

“I don’t know you well, Will,” Lecter finally declared, “But I pride myself in how I read people.”

“Okay?”

“You will need my help, Will,” he said.

Will straightened in his chair. “What?”

“You aren’t good at planning things out in the long term because you never had to,” explained Lecter. “That’s not going to do you well in life, especially with graduation coming up.”

“So what are you saying?” asked Will cautiously.

“I want you to meet with me after school once a week.”

 _Fucking hell._ “For how long?” asked Will.

“For however long it takes,” replied Lecter.

By the time Lecter finally excused Will, it was 4:00, which in Will’s opinion was 30 minutes later than necessary. Lecter asked him many more questions that seemed insignificant, but kept coming up with random observations about what every thing Will said. Since when were guidance counsellors anything like actual psychiatrists?

The pink slip in his hand read Tuesday, 3:15pm, which was the same appointment slot he had been given today. He found himself praying that Lecter would just stick with asking Will about his future goals and not bring up his social skills. He didn’t particularly enjoy being psychoanalysed. Will let out an exasperated sigh as he walked towards the exit, shrugging on his jacket before stepping into the January cold.

The rest of the week went by fairly quickly. After the third day of classes, Will found that he had developed a routine already. Beverly was in two of his classes, including Chilton’s class, and he had a third class with Brian and Alana. Brian seemed slightly friendlier towards Will when Jimmy wasn’t around to give him attention. Brian also seemed to like Will more after he noticed the subtle attempts at flirting with Alana (that unfortunately flew right over her head).

After school, Will would walk down the street to the bus stop to go home. On the days that he had free period at the end of the day, Beverly would give him a ride home.

Will found her incredibly easy to talk to, even about personal things. She listened to him rant about Hannibal Lecter and he in turn would listen to her rant about what was bugging her that day.

Finally, Will found himself in Lecter’s office the following Tuesday, listening to him talk about the importance of preparation. Will found himself much more pleased with Lecter the second time around, seeing as he was focusing on Will’s future and interests, and not trying to poke around his brain. After all was said and done, Will left the appointment with a relatively good mood.

As he turned into the hallway outside Lecter’s office, the girl sitting in the waiting area caught his eye. She approached him. _Why are the girls in the school so friendly_? Will thought to himself.

“I know you,” said the girl.

 _Can’t say I’m complaining_ , he thought when he saw her up close. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes. You’re Will, the new kid,” she said. “Matt was talking about you,” she added when she registered the surprise on Will’s face.

“Who?”

“Matt,” she said, not really helping Will’s confusion. “He’s this kid in my class that I sometimes talk to. I think he has a crush on you.”

Will frowned. “I don’t know a Matt,” he stated.

“You don’t need to,” the girl said, shrugging. “He still likes you.”

“Should I be worried?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s harmless until he isn’t.”

This sent a surge of panic through Will’s mind. “What does that mean?” he asked.

“Nothing,” said the girl nonchalantly. “Just that you should keep him in mind if you ever need anyone taken care of.”

Will chuckled nervously, unsure of whether she was joking or not. “I’m starting to see why you need counselling,” he said.

The girl cracked a hint of a smile. “You have no idea,” she said. And with that, she walked past Will and into Lecter’s office.

Will shook his head and walked out into the hallway. _Who the hell is Matt_? He thought.

Meanwhile, Hannibal Lecter looked at the girl sat across from him curiously. She had come in and slumped down into her chair as if it were not her first but her tenth time in his office. “May I ask why you requested such a late time for your appointment?”

The girl shrugged. “4:10 isn’t so late,” she stated.

“It is if you consider that school let out an hour ago.”

“Maybe I was busy,” she said flatly. “In any case, you said you were available.”

“That, I am,” affirmed Lecter. “And I will continue to be available to you, Margot, but I am curious. I must ask you to humour me.”

Margot exhaled deeply through her nose. “The time spent at school is time spent away from home,” she said, “And away from my brother and father. Time away from them is time well spent.”

Lecter frowned. “I see,” he said. “And what is it about your family that you don’t like.”

“Papa is a misogynist,” Margot explained. “And Mason is a sadist.”

“How is that?”

“He’s the reason I have these.” Margot pushed back one of the long sleeves of her sweater and revealed an arm that was littered with cuts and scars, both small and large, deep and shallow. “You don’t seem surprised, so I’m guessing you already knew about this.”

Lecter nodded once. “I did.” He leaned forward as Margot pulled her sleeve back down to cover her arm. “Do you know what it was that made you do this?”

She smirked. “I have an idea.”

“I don’t see why you find this amusing.”

“Oh, I don’t” said Margot. “I just appreciate the irony. My brother tries to control every single aspect of my life, and now I’m in counselling, the only time when I can talk about anything I want, but I’m still talking about him.”

“Is there anything else you would like to talk about?” asked Lecter.

“Well, there isn’t really much else in my life, sir.”

Margot did not go into details and Lecter did not press her for them. They skimmed the surface of Margot’s issues but didn’t go deeper into them. She was given another appointment for the same time next week.

Margot left the office and walked down the halls towards her locker. She did not feel any different than she had before. The weight of her brother’s abuse was still resting on her shoulders, and it was just as heavy as it had always been. She opened her locker when she got to it and pulled out her jacket. When she closed her locker and turned around, a body slammed into hers. Margot’s shock quickly subsided when the familiar cluster of orange curls invaded her vision. She grinned. “Hi, Freddie,” she greeted.

The small redhead pulled back and smiled solemnly at Margot. “How did it go?” she asked.

“It went fine,” said Margot. “I have another appointment next week.”

“That’s great!” Freddie linked her arm around Margot’s and together, they walked through the exit and towards the school parking lot. “I’m sorry, by the way,” Freddie murmured after a moment. “I know you didn’t want me to say anything about your self harm, but I couldn’t just let it go.”

“It’s okay,” Margot said. “You were right to go to Crawford. I’m just glad he didn’t call my dad before talking to me first.”

Freddie nodded, but she didn’t seem completely convinced that she was forgiven.

“Seriously, Freddie, it’s fine! I really think seeing Lecter will help me!” Margot said, hoping that the lie would make the other girl feel less shitty.

“As long as you’re getting help,” said Freddie when the two of them reached her Jeep. “Thank you for not being mad at me.”

Margot smiled. She was the only person Freddie ever apologized to. She liked to think it was because she brought out the best in her. God knows Freddie brought out the best in her. “Want me to show you just how _not mad_ I am at you?” Margot whispered.

Freddie smirked. “Absolutely,” she agreed.

Margot looked around the parking lot to make sure it was empty before taking gathering Freddie’s waist in her arms and kissing her full on the mouth.

Freddie instantly deepened the kiss, bringing her hands up to cradle Margot’s face. They kissed against the Jeep until a cold wind blew, causing both of them to shiver. Freddie turned and opened the passenger side door. “Shall we?” She said, gesturing for the other girl to climb in.

Margot took her seat, but instead of walking around to the driver’s side, Freddie climbed onto the passenger seat, putting her knees on either side of Margot’s legs so that she was straddling her. “I love you,” she said, leaning down and kissing her.

Margot pulled her closer. Feeling Freddie’s physical weight against her chest was much better than the metaphorical brother weight on her shoulder. “I love you, too,” she mumbled against her lips, “So fucking much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoooaaaaa three chapters in two days, I'm on a roll. Hope you guys liked it!


	4. Chasing it Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has another guidance counsellor appointment.   
> Alana is surprised by Chilton.

On the following Tuesday, Alana sat in chemistry and doodled on the margins of her paper. She herself was surprised that she was doing this, since she never did anything in class but listen and take notes. Doodling. She was _actually_ doodling.

She wanted to say she wasn’t angry about what Chilton had said to her, and for the most part, she was not. But she noticed that she had a newfound contempt towards him. He had made a point to put her down when it had been completely unnecessary. And he said Alana was too obsessed with her work, so as he spoke about ethers, she drew a little gravestone in the corner of her notes that read _Here Lies Frederick Chilton: Total Fucking Dick._ She smiled to herself. There was a certain satisfaction to hating on a teacher. She felt like one of the kids from sitcoms who pass around ridiculous and rude drawings of their teachers saying something vulgar.

Beverly wasn’t in school today, and Will was sitting where she normally sat. Every once in a while, she would look up at him instinctively, expecting Bev’s dark eyes look back only to catch blue eyes hidden behind glasses.

After the class ended, Will and Alana walked together through the halls. It was the last period of the day and they both had it off. Usually, Beverly was with the two of them and she was the one who got the conversation going. The truth was that neither Will nor Alana talked very much.

After walking in silence for a few minutes, Alana spoke up. “So how do you like the John Hopkins, Will?” She asked.

Will shrugged. “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s not hard to get into a routine.”

Alana raised her eyebrows. “It has only been a month since you’ve been here, though,” she said. “You already have a routine?”

“A routine is not that hard to develop when you’re in high school everyday,” Will explained. “Same place, same people, same classes, same teachers.”

They continued talking like this for a while. Alana was pleased to find that Will was not hard to get along with. Not that she had expected him to be hard to get along with, but it was still nice. After about a half hour of walking and talking, Alana asked Will if he wanted a ride back home. He refused, explaining that he had an appointment with Hannibal after dismissal.

“Oh? How are the meetings going, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“They’re going well.”

“And how is Hannibal?”

Will smiled, seeming to be amused by her question. “I like him, actually,” he admitted.

“See!” Alana said, giving him a small shove. “I told you he was awesome!”

“Well, to be fair, I thought he was creepy as hell when I first met him.”

Alana frowned. “You think so?”

“Yea,” said Will. “I completely understand why Bev isn’t really a fan. She never really talked to him properly, and I didn’t start liking him until the end of the second appointment.”

“Well, I guess that’s better than not liking him at all,” offered Alana. “So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Unsure of how to say goodbye, Alana gave Will a short side-hug and slung away awkwardly.

She went to her locker, which was near Chilton’s classroom, to get her jacket and car keys, and when she passed the room, something made her stop. The door was cracked open enough for Alana to be able to see Chilton sitting at his desk, looking very upset as he scribbled furiously at something in front of him. He seemed almost as stressed out as Crawford on the first day of the school year, which was about as stressed as anyone could get. But Chilton didn’t get stressed out. He was always calm.

Suddenly, he stood and walked towards the door. Alana hid behind the lockers as he came towards his door, not wanting Chilton to run into her outside his room. He walked towards the faculty bathroom, leaving the door of his classroom wide open. Alana slipped into the room after he disappeared into the bathroom.

She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t go without seeing what it was that made Chilton so stressed out. Her curiosity only grew when she saw what Chilton was writing. It was some sort of list. It did not have a title, but it was a to do list of sort.

Items on the list were written carefully, and then some of them were viciously scribbled over. The list had things like _Go to more exhibitions_ and _Invite people over_ and _Be nicer to students_. But it was the first item on the list that confused her.

 _Apologize to Alana_ , it read.

She stood, unmoving, staring at the list on her teacher’s desk. Before she could even figure out what she thought about this, Alana heard footsteps coming down the hallway towards Chilton’s classroom. She quickly crossed the room and exited through the door connecting to the classroom next door. She was able to miss Chilton completely. She left the building, pondering what made her asshole of a teacher make that list. And also wondering if he really was going to apologize to her or not.

Meanwhile, Will sat across from Hannibal for the fourth time. He wondered how he would have reacted four weeks ago if he knew everything that Hannibal would hear from him. Something about Hannibal made Will open up. Maybe it was his soothing nature, or maybe it was how willing he was to talk about anything Will wanted. In any case, Will felt comfortable enough to bring up Matt.

“Do you feel threatened by this boy?” Hannibal asked.

Will shook his head. “No, I’ve never been approached by him or anything,” he said. “I actually don’t even know who he is. I mean, I have an idea, but I don’t know for sure who he is.”

“I see.”

Will thought that Matt was the boy who stared at him that first day. Brown. Matt Brown. A ridiculously simple name, really. Just as simple as Will Graham, really. Will had caught him staring at him quite a few different times over the last month. “I didn’t actually think much of it after Margot told me about it,” he said, “But she knew me by name, and that must mean something, right?”

“It may. Or it may not,” said Hannibal. “But you should not fret over it so much if you are not feeling threatened or scared.”

Will nodded. “You’re right,” he said.

“Is Margot a new friend of yours?”

“Not really,” said Will. “I see her after every appointment and we say hi, but that’s really it.”

Hannibal nodded thoughtfully. “You know,” he said after a moment, “I do think that you and Margot would get along well.”

Will tilted his head. “What makes you say that?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” said Hannibal, “I know it is not my place to say, but it is a simple hypothesis of mine that the two of you would make excellent companions.”

Will nodded. “Okay,” he said simply. Absentmindedly, he wondered why Hannibal spoke the way he did. He could have easily gotten the message across by saying ‘I think you and Margot should be friends.’ _Probably to sound like he has expertise_ , thought Will.

“Now,” said Hannibal, changing the subject, “Have you looked at any of the colleges I mentioned last week?”

After a discussion about what Will might want to major in (he was leaning towards social sciences more than actual sciences) and which schools would be best for that, the appointment came to an end. On his way down the hallway, Will ran into Margot, as was usually the case. They smiled at and greeted each other for a moment before continuing on their own ways.

Will liked Margot, even if she was a bit weird, and Hannibal’s suggestion wasn’t foreign. Unfortunately, Will was not the kind of person who could just befriend someone like Beverly had him.

 _Oh well_ , he thought. _It’ll happen if it happens._


	5. Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margot talks to Hannibal about her predicament.

Hannibal Lecter was not normal. There was something weird about him. By now, Margot was sure that he knew the truth. She had dropped enough hints and he seemed to be a smart man, capable of connecting dots most people wouldn’t. The way he spoke about the cuts and injuries on her arms made it clear that he didn’t believe she did them to herself. And he knew from the way she spoke about Mason that it was he who hurt her.

But if he really knew that her 20-year-old brother was physically abusing her, why was he doing absolutely nothing about it? Surely, there must be some kind of rule where of you’re aware of abused students you need to report it? Or at least ask the student in question about it. Margot didn’t know what to think. On the one hand, Hannibal was not looking out for what was best for her; on the other hand, Hannibal getting involved would have made things much worse for her. The first person to call for this concern is a parent or guardian, and that meant Papa.

And Papa would not help Margot. He would punish her for tarnishing the Verger family name. He would punish her for spreading lies. He would accuse her of exaggerating what was clearly just sibling rivalry. Last time Margot checked, dragging a dull pocketknife over your sister’s skin over and over till you drew blood was not ‘just’ sibling rivalry. Neither was pushing her face into a sink full of water for over a minute and neither was choking her until she actually fainted.

But Mason was Papa’s prodigy. He was going to follow in Papa’s footsteps and take over the company. Mason was getting a business degree online so that he could live at home and thus be able to shadow Papa and learn from experience. This of course also meant that Mason could torment Margot all we wanted.

He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Mason wanted to be able to know where Margot was all the time. She was convinced that he had spies follow her to places, and she knew that if he were to ever find out that she was in a relationship, things would not end well. He was obsessive, possessive, and utterly insane. Margot was like a toy to him. He liked to play with her, push her around, and see how long it would be before she breaks. He wanted to make sure that he was in every single aspect of his life so that she could not escape him.

Unfortunately, Margot already knew she could not escape him. Something told her that she would never be rid of him. She has been living with him for 17 years and he was still as close to her as ever. Papa would die eventually, but Mason will be alive for the most of her life, still.

It was a shame, really.

“My best option is probably to just kill him.”

“Is this something you have thought of often, Margot?” Hannibal asked her.

She looked at him with weary eyes and a dull expression. “Of course, it is,” she says simply. “Who wouldn’t think about killing him if they were in my position?”

“Do you fantasize about it?” Asked Hannibal.

“Yes,” answered Margot without skipping a beat.

“How would you do it?”

Margot took a breath. “With my hands,” she said after a short pause.

Hannibal looked down when she spoke, but Margot thought she had caught some sort of sparkle in his eye. He seemed pleased with her answer.

“I get the feeling that there is something deeper troubling you, Margot,” he said, not commenting on what she said.

Margot didn’t respond, which was answer enough for Hannibal.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Margot stared at the counsellor for a while; conflicted about whether she wanted to tell him what was constantly on the back of her mind. It was true that she didn’t completely trust the man, but he seemed good at keeping secrets so far. _And I need to get this off my chest_. She closed her eyes and whispered, “He can never know about Freddie. He can’t. Or he will take her away from me.” It was hard for her to keep her voice from shaking. “And he will do it in the worst possible way imaginable.”

Hannibal tilted his head. “Who is Freddie?” he asked.

“My girlfriend. I convinced her to keep our relationship a secret by telling her I’m still in the closet,” she explained. “Truthfully, I am not ashamed of my sexuality, but it was the best way for me to be with her and not have Mason know I am with someone.”

“What do you think he would do if he knew?”

Margot thought back to the only other time someone had taken interest in her. When she was fourteen, a boy in her class named Peter confessed that he had a crush on her. She rejected him, but Mason, who was in the twelfth grade at the time, heard about this and set the contents of Peter’s locker on fire. Peter himself got severe burns on his arms because of it. And later that night, Mason gave her a long slash down her left leg.

“He thinks he owns me,” said Margot after awhile. “He thinks I am his property.”

“Has he touched you, Margot?” Hannibal asked.

“No, not in that way. But he likes to have control over me,” said Margot. “And if I have anyone in my life other than him and Papa, then he can’t stand it.”

“I see,” said Hannibal quietly, and for a moment, Margot thought that he might have been disturbed by the information.

“I lie to Freddie about where I live,” she said. “I tell her I live in the apartment building a block away from my actual house. Everyday after school, she drops me off there and I go in and watch from the window until her Jeep turns the corner, and then I walk the rest of the way home.” After a minute, she added, “I lie to Freddie about everything.”

“So to summarize, you are lying to your girlfriend about Mason, and in turn, she thinks that you have an entirely different set of problems that involves you hurting yourself,” stated Hannibal. “And you’re lying to your family about being with someone.”

Margot raised an eyebrow to Hannibal. This was the first time that he openly admitted to knowing what Mason had done to her, so now she was completely certain that he was not planning on telling anyone about her abuse any time soon. “Yes,” she said. “That is right.”

“So what do you plan to do?”

“Hope that my secrets stay secret,” sighed Margot. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“I do,” said Hannibal.

Margot sat up. “Yes?”

“Distraction, Margot, is a very powerful thing,” said Lecter. “Maybe if Mason is too busy focusing on someone else, he will not notice your secrets.”

Margot watched him for a moment. “Focusing on some _one_ else?” She repeated. “Did you mean some _thing_ else?”

Hannibal’s lip twitched. “Of course, I did,” he said. “My mistake.”

But it wasn’t a mistake. He definitely meant using someone as a distraction. Margot knew it and he knew that Margot knew it. She looked at the clock hanging above Hannibal’s head. It was a quarter to five, and she wasn’t expected home for another hour. Usually, the session would last until 5:15, but there was nothing more for either of them to say. “Is that all for today, then?” asked Margot.

“Is there anything else you want to speak about?”

“No.”

“Then that is all for today.”

Margot left the guidance office and called Freddie when she was in the hallway to ask her to pick her up. Freddie lived ten minutes away from the school and soon enough, her Jeep pulled over in front of the entrance and Margot hopped in.

“I’m not expected home for another hour,” said Margot.

“My parents are out of town,” said Freddie.

 

Forty minutes later, the girls lay together naked in Freddie’s bed with their legs tangled together. Their clothes were discarded, thrown all across the floor. They were both still breathless and sweaty from the sex and the heat of their bodies made everything feel stuffy, but Margot liked to feel Freddie’s breath on her, even if it only made her feel warmer than she could consider comfortable. It felt easier to stay when Margot remembered that it early February and no place would be as warm as next to Freddie under the blankets.

Then again, she would want to stay here even if it was the middle of August.

She ran her fingers through Freddie’s wild hair as Freddie stroked her arms, running her hands gently over every mark and burn and cut Mason had made.

“I’m really proud of you,” whispered Freddie. “I’m so happy that you’re trying to get better.”

Margot frowned. “Thank you,” she said, “But can we not discuss this right now?”

Freddie propped herself up onto one arm. “You don’t have to be shy about this with me, Margot,” she said. “I’m not going to judge.”

“I know you aren’t, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But don’t you think—”

“Shh,” interrupted Margot, putting a hand over Freddie’s mouth. “You’re spoiling the mood.”

“You’re going to have to talk to me about it eventually,” Freddie said, moving Margot’s hand away from her face, but keeping a hold on her wrist.

Margot frowned. “Well, today is not eventually,” she said.

Before Freddie could respond, Margot reached up and kissed her. Freddie sighed and gave in, kissing back gently. Margot soon deepened the kiss and pushed Freddie down onto the mattress and climbed on top of her.

“Don’t you need to be home in twenty minutes?” Asked Freddie when Margot’s lips left hers to trail down her throat.

“I’ll work fast,” murmured Margot as she lowered hers hands down to settle between Freddie’s legs.

Fifteen minutes later, Freddie sat in the driver’s seat in sweatpants and a jacket that had nothing underneath it as Margot tied her shoes in the passenger’s seat. They had had enough time to be able to get Margot home in time, but they had forgotten to factor in the time it took for them to actually put their clothes back on, which had caused Margot to run barefoot through the snow with her jeans unbuttoned and her shoes and socks in her hands.

By the time Margot got home, Mason was waiting for her in the living room. “Why, Margot!” He greeted with a smile on his face. “You’re late!”

“Only by ten minutes,” she mumbled, walking past him to go to her bedroom.

“Actually, it’s been thirteen minutes,” he corrected, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards him. He spun her around to face him. “Where have you been, sister?”

Margot flinched at his tight grip. “The appointment ran late,” she said.

Mason gave her another smile and nodded. He didn’t say anything else, but he definitely did not plan to let her go.

“Mason, can you let go—”

“I’m curious, Margot,” he said, digging his nails into her skin. “What does that counsellor of yours think of all these injuries up and down your arms?”

Margot tried to pull away. “He thinks I did them.”

“Well, yea,” said Mason. “You did.”

Margot didn’t protest, just looked down. Mason released his hold on her but didn’t move away from her and Margot knew that he would just grab her again if she tried to leave. “Mason,” she said quietly, “I need you to stop giving me these injuries.”

For a split second, Margot saw anger flash across her brother’s face before he burst out into laughter. The loud volume of his laughter bellowed and echoed around the house, but his eyes still showed rage.

“People are noticing, Mason,” explained Margot feebly. “And if Lecter doesn’t see me improving, he will never let me out of the appointments.”

Mason nodded. “That also seems like a reasonable excuse,” he said. “Funny, though, because even Papa hasn’t noticed your arms.” He slung away with his hands in his pockets. “I’m the only one who sees them, dear Margot,” he added over his shoulder.

Margot took a deep breath and tried to compose herself before heading upstairs to her room.


	6. Dread in my Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has a stressful day.   
> Margot has an idea.

_What the absolute fuck_. Will stared at the chemistry test in his hands. He had known the material. Or, at least he thought he had. He was so confident in his knowledge of the material that he barely even studied.

Beverly turned in her chair. “I got an 89,” she said. “I swear Chilton wanted to avoid giving me an A so much that he made sure that I wouldn’t get it by setting up the test like this.”

“You’re ridiculous, Bev,” said Alana. “Like Chilton would go through the trouble.”

“You never know, Al,” replied Beverly. “I am the smartest person in this class, and making sure I didn’t get an A means making sure no one gets an A.”

“Oh, you think you’re the smartest, do you? Then how do you explain _this_?” Alana retorted, holding her test up to Beverly’s face. “91! Read it and weep, sucka!”

Brian turned in his seat to join the conversation. “Ladies, ladies, please! We all know that _I’m_ the real genius here,” he said, holding up his test, which showed a red 69% on the top. “Who else could make sure to get enough answers to get this lovely, lovely number?”

“Keep telling yourself that, Brian,” said Jimmy. “I got an 82.”

Beverly looked at Will. “What did you get?”

“Oh, I failed,” said Will, feigning nonchalance. “42.”

“Well, you didn’t get the right answers to the test, but at least you got the answer to the universe!” said Jimmy, immediately trying to make Will feel better. Will gave him a small smile and agreed.

The group moved onto another topic. Soon, Alana was going through her notes to see the correct answers to the questions she had gotten wrong and Brian had started bickering with Jimmy.

Beverly turned to Will. “It’s weird that you failed,” she said. “I thought you knew the material.”

“I did,” muttered Will, looking through his test. It was true; he had known the answers to almost every question he had gotten wrong.

“You must just have frozen up, then,” offered Beverly.

“Maybe,” Will mumbled.

“Alright, that’s enough discussion,” said Chilton to the class. “Time to continue with the actual lesson. Maybe those who didn’t do so well will pay more attention to the rest of the lesson now,” he added with a smirk.

Will crossed his arms on his desk and sunk his chin down to rest on them. He had never had this happen to him before. He was always good when giving tests. But something had come over him when he was writing the actual test. It was like a feeling of complete apathy washed over him as he looked at the top of the page: _AP Chemistry 12 Test 2/5._ He didn’t care about chemistry so why should he even try? Next thing he knew, he was barely even reading the questions properly as he wrote down the first things that popped into his mind in the answer box without actually thinking it through.

The thing that scared him the most was that this was not just a fluke. Will had always taken school seriously, even with all the moving around and the fact that he hadn’t a clue what and if he wanted to study after graduation. So far, he had had five tests from his three classes, two of which he failed and the other three were Ds. Will wanted to do well in his classes, but even now, his mind kept wandering to other things. Mainly, he was thinking about his meetings with Hannibal Lecter.

In fact, his meetings with Hannibal had become a very persistent subject in his mind. Will would think about the things Hannibal had said to him days after an appointment, but it would feel like he had just had the conversation with him. Eventually, Will began associating most things in his life with something Hannibal had said to him. He would talk about things that Will had never thought about before, especially in relation to education.

Hannibal seemed to be pushing Will away from getting into a good school. Will had confessed that he wasn’t the biggest fan of science, and after that, Hannibal was constantly putting down all forms of science in front of Will, who had assumed he did so to make Will feel better about his decision not to pursue it. But reflecting on the conversations now, it seemed like Hannibal was deliberately trying to instil a sense of apathy in Will towards school.

Because it wasn’t just the sciences. After a few of sessions with Will, Hannibal started speaking in the same bad way about all of Will’s classes, and encouraging him to pursue something else, something other than higher education. This only grew stronger when he found out about Will doing poorly in his classes.

 _You could always come work for me._ This was something that Hannibal had actually said to Will on multiple occasions, usually following Will’s question about what to do if not go to college. _I could hire you as an assistant on my own personal salary. No need to worry about school._

Will furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if Hannibal really could have been planting this apathy in his mind on purpose. He was definitely influencing Will. It was now just a question of intent.

The bell rang, snapping Will out of his thoughts. “Make sure to have last week'a assignment done by tomorrow,” Chilton was saying. “Happy hump day, everyone.”

Brian snickered, causing Beverly to smack him on the arm. “You’re so nasty!” she said. 

“That’s how the ladies like it,” he replied, licking his lips. “Now if you’ll excuse us…” He gestured to Jimmy to come with him as he headed towards the door.

“Speaking of humping…” mumbled Alana, making Will and Beverly both laugh as the three of them walked towards the door, but before they left the room, Chilton stopped them.

“Miss Bloom,” he said.

Alana gave her friends an irritated look and turned. “Yes?”

“Could I, uh, speak with you a moment?” Chilton asked.

Alana nodded and said goodbye to Beverly and Will.

“Did he seem nervous to you?” Will said when they were out in the halls.

Beverly shrugged. “He has been acting nicer lately. Maybe it’s some mid-life crisis or something stupid.”

“He’s, like, 37. Shouldn’t he wait another 10 years for one of those?”

Beverly couldn’t give Will a ride home like she usually did, so Will found himself standing and waiting for the bus to come. He stood alone, watching his breath dance in the mid-February air.

Soon, someone joined him at the stop, but Will didn’t pay much mind until the boy spoke.

“I was wondering if we’d ever get a chance to meet.” His voice was raspy, but maybe that was because of how low his pitch was.

Will looked up. “You’re Brown,” he said. “I’ve seen you around.”

“And I’ve seen you,” he replied. “My friends call me Matthew.”

Will looked at him up and down. So this was Matt Brown. He was shorter than Will by a about two inches, but he was definitely stronger, which would be to Will’s disadvantage if things were to ever become physical. “What makes you think we are friends?” He asked, looking away.

“We’ve exchanged enough friendly glances to warrant an introduction, don’t you think?”

 _Friendly glances? Don’t you mean creepy, one-sided stares?_ Will didn’t say anything.

Matthew tilted his head towards Will’s, trying to catch his eyes. “I am not a threat, Mr. Graham.”

Will turned to him, slightly surprised at Matthew’s accurate reading of the situation (which was usually Will’s thing), but not letting it show. “What makes you think I am threatened?” He asked.

“They say that eyes are the windows to the soul,” said Matthew. “I’m sure you’ve heard the expression before.” Will turned his face to look at him as he continued.

“It’s really a very accurate phrase.” He moved closer to Will, who willed himself to stay in his spot. “You have your adrenaline going, and I swear I can hear your blood pumping. Or maybe I just think I can because I know that's happening.” He straightened up and took a step back from Will. “A person’s pupils dilate when the fight or flight instincts kick in,” Matthew explained. “You’re a fighter, Mr. Graham.”

Will eyed the other boy for a moment. He was definitely hesitant, but something about Matthew made Will feel calm. "Call me Will," he said. 

Matthew smiled.

 

Margot rummaged through her closet. “Fuck,” she muttered to herself. She turned and went to her dresser and started looking through the drawers. “Shit!”

Every day since she told Mason that people were starting to notice the injuries he left on her, he had made a point to comment on her shirts. It was something that he had noticed but she had never realized: Margot didn’t own short-sleeved shirts. Every single top in her closet had long sleeves. She had been buying modest clothing her entire life to hide the scars from others, to hide from Mason, so that it wouldn’t hurt as much when Mason grabbed her (which he did quite often), and to make sure her father didn’t punish her for going against his desire to control her by having her dress conservatively.

 _He knows._ Margot sat down on her bed and clutched her head in her hands. She had made a huge mistake. Mason now knew that there was someone who was looking underneath her clothing. Someone other than the guidance counsellor. Someone who she actually cared about. It was only a matter of time before he found out who it was and he had been dropping hints about it for days. Margot had caught on to this very early on but acted clueless. She stopped getting rides home from Freddie so that Mason wouldn’t see her when he sent spies after her.

Because that was what Mason did. He hires spies using Papa’s money. And Papa didn’t care where his money was being spent, as long as it wasn’t in Margot’s hands.

There was no use now to pretend that she wasn’t intimate with somebody, but she couldn’t let him know about Freddie. _Maybe if he can focus on someone else…_

Margot sat up straight as Hannibal’s voice rang in her ears. _Oh my god_ , she thought. _Brilliant_!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Matthew was overwhelmingly fun, okay? I'm hoping that I was able to write him in character!


	7. Far in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana decides to learn more about Chilton

Alana hunched in her seat and absentmindedly played with the food on her plate. Usually when she was over at Hannibal’s house for dinner with her family, she would pay attention to her posture and make sure to follow rules of etiquette. He was incredibly sophisticated, always had been.

When she was younger, she fantasized about being like him, living in a house like his, living with the lifestyle he had, and so early on, she decided to focus as much energy as she could into schoolwork so she could one day own a house like his. It shocked her when she discovered that he was a guidance counsellor, and that all of the money that he has was his inheritance. Hannibal had always lived the high life. Alana frequently found herself questioning why on earth he would want to work in a high school.

“Alana,” Hannibal said, bringing her out of her trance. “Is everything alright? You seem not yourself.”

Alana smiled in reassurance. “I’m fine, Hannibal,” she said.

“She’s been like this for a couple days,” said her mother. Alana frowned. She didn’t know her mother had noticed anything. She sure hadn’t said anything. “I think it’s about a boy,” her mother added, teasingly.

“Mom!”

Hannibal chuckled. “Is it about a boy, Alana?”

Alana turned red. “Since when am I ever the topic of conversation during these dinners?” she mumbled. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

Her parents frowned slightly at her tone, but Hannibal dismissed them. The three of them moved onto a new topic and Alana went back to pushing the food (some Japanese dish she couldn’t pronounce properly) around her plate.

The truth was that she did not have a lot of things in her mind. She only had one, and that was, in fact, a boy. A man, rather.

She had been wondering if he would ever actually apologize to her like his list said to, but so long had gone by without his saying anything that she had forgotten about it until he asked to speak with her after class on Wednesday. It was Friday evening, and she was still thinking about what had happened.

Chilton was acting awkward and nervous as he offered to give her an extra credit assignment. She accepted it and asked questions as nonchalantly as she could, hoping that would make him feel more relaxed. After he gave her some details for the project that she had to do (it would be a semester-long process, she would be testing catalysts), she turned to leave.

“Miss Bloom, wait.”

Alana turned. “Yes, Dr. Chilton?”

He bit his lip and he looked up at her from his seat at his desk. “I… I know that I said I wouldn’t give you extra credit before.”

He paused, waiting for Alana to say something. She nodded.

“Well, I know that I was a bit…harsh when I said I wouldn’t give you any, so I wanted to apologize for that.”

Alana couldn’t help but smile. She had never thought she would ever consider Chilton to be cute, but he had actually gone red in the cheeks. He even seemed aware of it, which in turn made him even more nervous. “You don’t need to apologize,” she said.

“But I am sorry,” he replied, looking away.

“It’s alright.”

Chilton gave her a small smile. Probably the most pathetic smile she had ever seen. But instead of wanting to mock him like she thought she would have, Alana found herself wanting to comfort him, make him feel better. She looked around his classroom. It was unbelievably bare. There weren’t any pictures hanging onto the counters that lined three sides of the room for when the students did in-class experiments. There were no motivational posters on the walls like most classrooms had. The only place in the classroom that had any visual interest was Chilton’s desk, which was busy and cluttered. But there was nothing personal on the space, and Alana had never really seen him move or change anything on his desk except for some papers and his computer. Everything else on there seemed to be some sort of façade, as if to reassure everyone that he wasn’t some soulless robot. It wasn’t a particularly affective disguise, because most of his students already decided he had no depth.

Chilton cleared his throat, making Alana snap out of her own thoughts. She turned red, realizing that she had just been standing and staring at him. “Sorry,” she said. “I was just… just wondering about this.” Alana walked to his desk and picked up his pen. “It’s really, uhm, pretty.”

“Thank you,” Chilton said, looking at her strangely.

 _Fuck. Now he thinks you’re a ditz._ She looked at the pen again, and suddenly remembered seeing one very similar to this on Hannibal’s desk. “Is it a Mont Blanc?” she asked.

Chilton raised an eyebrow at her. “It is,” he said, clearly impressed.

“It’s an impressive pen,” she said, replacing it on the desk. “I know that a lot of architects carry these around. They can’t necessarily afford them but since they are tools of the trade, they like to have the best of the best.”

Chilton leaned forward and picked up the pen. “This one was a gift,” he said.

“Oh really? That’s a pretty amazing gift. May I ask who gave it to you?”

As he told Alana the story, she found herself grateful, for the first time, that her father and Hannibal loved to talk about pens and other random things that she never understood the importance of. She also found that she enjoyed listening to Chilton’s personal story very much. It made him seem even more human than the list did. The two of them went off onto several tangents after that, and they ended up talking all through lunch and well into the next period, which they both had off.

Chilton was leaning back in his chair with a big smile on his face as Alana leaned against his desk, her head cocked back in laughter, when there was a knock at the door. Alana flushed when she saw Beverly standing at the door.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” said Alana. “It was nothing important. Just going over some details of something.”

“We were just about finished, too,” Chilton added, sitting up straight in his seat. “She’s all yours, Miss Katz.”

“Cool. Thanks,” said Beverly, raising her eyebrows. Alana left the room, trying to figure out why she was blushing.

“Will introduced me to some girl named Margot,” Beverly said. “We hung out for a bit, but then she stole him and they ditched me.” Alana could tell Bev wasn’t offended by what had happened, but rather found it funny.

“Who’s Margot?”

“Apparently some girl he knows from around.”

“Isn’t he too new to know people from just around?”

Beverly shrugged. “Well, she was flirting with him profusely so we can assume what her intent was.”

Alana giggled. “Go, Will.”

“So Chilton’s finally gave you that extra credit assignment, then?” asked Beverly.

Alana nodded. “Have you noticed that he’s been nicer lately?” She asked hesitantly.

Beverly chuckled. “Well, I can certainly tell _you_ thought so!”

“ _Bev_.”

“No, you’re right, though,” she said. “He has been nicer this semester than he used to be. I wonder what happened.”

For the next two days, Alana caught Chilton’s eye during class multiple times and she found that he was acting awkwardly towards her for no reason. Her head told her that it was most likely because he had never actually spoke to a student on a personal level before, but even still, she found herself thinking of his heavy lidded eyes regularly over the next couple days. It annoyed her because she had always been a rational person. If she came to a logical solution about a situation, the rest of her mind would just go with it. This time, it was different.

The sound of a plate being set down in front of her brought Alana back from her thoughts to the dinner she was attending. “Hannibal? Could I ask you something?” She said as he placed the rest of the desserts on the table before taking his own seat.

“Of course you can, Alana,” Hannibal said.

“I was actually just wondering if you know a lot about Dr. Chilton?” She asked. “I’m just wondering because I suddenly remembered him mentioning you the other day,” she added quickly, not wanting to lead on that he had been consuming her mind for days.

“I know more than some people and less than others,” Hannibal said. “We have similar backgrounds. Both of us are highly educated and could work for universities or even offices, but chose to work at a secondary school,” he explained. “So we are familiar with each other, but not enough to be considered more than acquaintances.”

Alana nodded thoughtfully. “Have you worked with him long?”

“Five years. Since he started working at John Hopkins.”

“What’s he like outside of school?”

At this, her mother cut in. “Alana, honey, why all this sudden interest in your biology teacher?” she asked.

“He’s teaching chemistry this semester, Mom.”

“In any case, I have never heard you utter a nice word about him before. Why all the questions.”

“Well, he just always seemed bitter in class. I was thinking that if I knew more about him, I wouldn’t dislike him so much.”

“I don’t mind answering,” Hannibal said. “Frederick has had some bad things happen to him that made him have a generally hostile outlook in life.”

Alana tilted her head. “Like what?”

“When he was just out of university, he was attacked.”

“The poor man,” muttered Alana’s father. He and her mother were both listening intently. “Why was he attacked?”

“There was no motive to the attack,” explained Hannibal. “Frederick was walking down the street from a psychiatric hospital when a patient that had escaped came up from behind and attacked him with a piece of broken metal.”

Alana’s mouth dropped. “Oh my god. Was it bad?”

“It was, unfortunately,” said Hannibal. “He had to get multiple surgeries afterwards and there were many problems with some of his organs, particularly his kidney.”

“Is that why he uses a cane?” Alana asked.

Hannibal nodded. “He also cannot digest animal proteins.”

Alana frowned. _Oh my god_ , she thought.

 

On the following Monday, Alana had chemistry during first period. She had had so much trouble focusing on her homework over the weekend because she couldn’t stop thinking about Chilton, so actually being in the same room with him just made everything much, much worse. Except now she had gotten past feeling bad for him and bad for how she and fellow students spoke of him, and instead caught herself thinking about the colour of his eyes and how he looked with a beard versus no beard. She kept looking at how his hands curled around his cane, almost toying with it and she kept noticing each time he would play with his 700$ pen between his teeth.

When the class was over, she, Will, and Beverly decided to go out for an early lunch and then drive around. Third period was lunch period so they had an extra long time off. Will and Beverly were arguing over where they should eat (Will wanted to go to a pub and grill, Beverly wanted Mexican) as they approached Beverly’s car.

“What do you think, Alana?” asked Will.

“Uh, actually, I don’t think I’m going to join you,” said Alana.

Will’s face dropped. “What? Why?”

“I just… I just remembered some work I need to do,” Alana said, rubbing her forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“Can’t it wait?’

“No, it really can’t,” Alana said. “I’m sorry, I _just_ remembered!”

Beverly rolled her eyes. “You’re full of shit, Alana,” she said.

Alana made a face at her, and she retorted by giving her the finger.

“Come on, Bev, let’s ditch this loser,” Will joked, offering her his arm. “Looks like it’s just the two of us today.”

Beverly looped her arm around Will’s and they continued walking towards her car. “Too bad,” she pouted jokingly. “I was planning on seducing both of you but I guess now I just have to settle for just you.”

Will chuckled nervously as his ears turned red. Alana smiled and waved as they drove off. She turned and walked back to the school. _What am I even doing?_ She thought to herself. _I don’t even know if he’s even in his classroom._ She was starting to regret doing this and started questioning her judgement as she slowly approached the chemistry classroom. The door was opened slightly and she could see Chilton sitting at his desk. He was watching something on his laptop with headphones in as he ate an apple. Something fluttered in her stomach as she watched him and she contemplated turning away and going to the library to do actual work. _Stop being a baby, Alana_ , she told herself. She wasn’t about to run away. She only wanted to ask him a question. There was nothing wrong about that (even though she already knew the answer to the question).

She knocked on the door but he didn’t notice, so she entered the classroom. “Dr. Chilton?”

He looked up. “Miss Bloom. What can I do for you?” He asked, pausing the video and removing his headphones.

“Actually, sir, I had a question about the assignment you gave us this morning…”

Just like last time, their conversation moved onto different topics and the two of them found themselves laughing with each other and talking about more personal things. He lectured at different universities multiple times a month and that keeps him busy, which is why he never seems to leave his classroom during his off periods. He said he likes to get as much work done as possible before he went home. He came from a small family that spoiled him but he liked to think he grew out of it in most aspects. She learned so much about him and the more Alana heard, the more impressed she became and she wondered if he felt the same.

Eventually, the warning bell rang and Alana realized that the two of them had spent all of their free period and their lunch together and neither of them had noticed. The next period would start in ten minutes. When she looked at Chilton, she assumed that the look of surprise on his face mirrored her own. He stood from behind his desk and took some papers out of his desk drawer. “Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat and coming around the table towards her. “I found these articles over the weekend and I thought that they may be helpful for your extra credit.” He extended the articles towards her.

Alana smiled. “Thank you,” she said, taking the articles in her hands, but Chilton didn’t let go. She tugged at it so that he would let go but he didn’t loosen his grip. Confused, she looked up and as soon as she did, Chilton lowered his face to hers. Alana realized what he was doing and her mouth fell open in surprise just before his lips touched hers. She succumbed to the kiss almost immediately.

It was soft and innocent but Chilton yanked himself away from her before it was deepened. She was completely shocked and didn’t know what to think. How was she supposed to react to something like this? What was going through his head when he did this? She was confused, but at the same time, she felt…good. She was embarrassed that she had kissed him back, but she knew that it wasn’t enough to stop her from wanting to kiss him again. Alana looked up to see her teacher’s lips moving so she struggled to clear her head just enough to see the horrified expression on Chilton’s face as he apologized.


	8. Calm Me Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margot puts her plan into action

Margot frowned at the text Freddie had sent her. _I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks._ She contemplated not answering at all, but decided that it would make it seem like she was purposefully avoiding her. She typed a response. _It’s only been a few days. Plus, we see each other at school everyday._

 _That’s not enough_ was the reply.

 _I’ll make it up to you, I promise._ Margot replied.

_Tonight?_

_Can’t. Busy._

_Hanging with that Will kid again?_

_I’m just busy, okay?_

_Whatever._

She sighed and put her phone back into her pocket and went back to her English teacher drone on about some book they were meant to finish two weeks ago. Margot had definitely been distant towards Freddie for the past few days. She knew that she couldn’t do anything with her outside of school because Mason would know. She was even refusing to let Freddie drive her home. It sucked. Mason didn’t even know about Freddie, but he was already driving her away.

“You feeling alright?” someone whispered.

Margot looked over to Matt, sitting beside her in class.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled.

“No, you’re not,” he whispered back.

Margot frowned. Over the years, she had perfected concealing her feelings. Papa and Mason never knew what she was thinking. Even Freddie couldn’t see behind her neutral expression. But for some reason, Matt could, and it irritated her to no end. He was just too good at reading people. If she asked him how he could tell she was miserable, he would probably just mention something cryptic about eyes. Apparently, they give everything away.

“Freddie’s mad at me,” Margot offered at last. Matt was the only person who knew about her and Freddie’s relationship. They hadn’t told him, he had somehow figured it out himself.

“Is it about Will?”

Margot narrowed her eyes at him. “How did you—”

“I’ve been spending some lunches with her,” he said. “She is really not taking a liking towards him.”

Margot groaned.

“She also tried to get me to start hating him. But I have no reason to stop liking him.”

“Well, aren’t you at least mad at me?”

“Nope,” Matt said without even thinking about it. “You aren’t attracted to him.”

“I could be.”

Matt snickered in response. “Whatever your motive is for getting friendly with Mr. Graham has nothing to do with dating him.”

Margot frowned and was about to retort but the teacher hushed the two of them before she could. They apologized to the teacher and went back to sitting next to each other in silence.

Margot had decided that the only way that she could make sure Mason didn’t know about Freddie was make him think he knew about someone else. She couldn’t have asked Matt for help without telling him everything. And even though she thought that Matt could handle himself against any attack her brother planned, she was not ready to let him know everything. He knew as much about her family as Freddie. (In other words, nothing.)

So Margot needed a boy who wouldn’t ask questions. Someone who didn’t know she was into girls or that she was taken. That could really be any boy at the school, but Will was really the easiest option. And so she started talking to him more at lunch and flirting with him as much as she could. He still wasn’t picking up on the hints so she had to resort to more direct measures.

Mason and Papa were gone away for two days. They left in the morning and would not be back until late tomorrow night. It was the perfect opportunity to have someone over. Usually, such a situation would mean sleeping over at Freddie’s house, but that was not an option.

So when lunchtime arrived, Margot asked Will to come over to her house. The clueless sucker took this to mean the two of them hanging out platonically.

After school, she and Will took the bus to Margot’s house.

“This is a gorgeous place,” said Will and the two of them stood in the kitchen.

“Thanks. Do you want some whiskey?”

Will looked at her, surprised. “What?”

“Don’t worry,” Margot said, pouring whiskey for the both of them. “No one will be home until tomorrow night.” She handed him the glass. “Here.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking a sip. He looked so awkward and uncomfortable that Margot decided that she needed to just push everything into the direction she wanted.

“Come on,” she said, “I’ll give you a tour of the house.”

“Alright.”

Margot took Will around the main area, then ascended the stairs. She walked over to her bedroom door. “I’m going to stop the tour here,” she said. “It’s the most interesting place, anyway.” She entered the room and took a seat on her bed, patting the space beside her.

Will came in and sat beside her. He cleared his throat and tapped the side of his now-empty glass. “Margot, why did you invite me here?” he asked hesitantly.

Margot smiled. _Fucking finally_. She put a hand on his leg. “Why does any girl invite a boy over when her parents are away?”

Will flushed. “I didn’t think you were interested in me, Margot.”

“Mhmm.” Margot took the glass from Will and put it beside hers on the side table.

“I thought…”

Margot leaned close to him. “What did you think?” she whispered seductively.

She could tell Will was struggling to find the words to say what he wanted. “I thought you…were…not into boys,” he muttered finally.

Margot dropped her arms and sat up straight. She wanted to yell and demand how he knew that. Was it obvious? No one else seemed to know. How did Will?

“I’m right,” said Will, “Aren’t I?”

Margot huffed. “Maybe.”

Will nodded, looking down.

 _Maybe it’s not too late_ , she thought. She reached over and lifted Will’s face up with her hand so he would look at her. “Watch very carefully,” she whispered.

Margot waited until Will nodded, then climbed onto his lap, straddling him. He stiffened, evidently surprised. She reached up and unbuttoned his shirt without taking her eyes off him. She didn’t know much about boys, but she knew that they were not likely to turn down an invitation to sex.

“Margot—”

Margot silenced Will with a kiss and waited until he kissed her back. When he did, she deepened the kiss and finished removing his shirt. “Trust me,” she whispered, climbing off his lap so she could remove her own clothes. “I am into this.”

Will nodded. He took his pants off and lay back down on her bed as she undressed herself.

Margot handed him the condom she had put in her jeans pocket. She didn’t trust herself to put it on, and she watched Will as he put it on his erect member. It was the first time she had ever seen one in person, and suddenly, a surge of panic ran through her body. _This is for Freddie_ , she reminded herself. _This is all for Freddie_.

She took a deep breath and climbed on top of him. 


	9. To The Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will meets Mason

Up until this point, the day had been as ordinary as any other. Will had gone to school, gone to classes, talked to friends, and gotten on the bus to go home. He had not spoken to Margot since the Friday he had gone over to her house and it was Monday now. She barely acknowledged him in the halls when they saw each other, but that had been something Will had expected.

After they had sex, Margot put her clothes back on and thanked Will, before showing him the door. It wasn’t hard to see that she had been using him this entire time, although Will couldn’t for the life of him think of a reason as to why Margot would want to sleep with someone who she wasn’t attracted to in the slightest. What possible reason could there be for someone to do this? But it was obvious that she was determined and that she wasn’t planning on telling him the real reason for hooking up. And so, he did her a favour and gave her what she wanted (not that he minded, in this case).

The bus let him off two streets away from his house. One of those streets had one house on it, and the owners were never home. His house was sitting in the middle of nowhere and it really the perfect place for a crime to take place. This was a thought that had crossed Will’s mind several times, but he had never actually considered that anything would happen.

So it was really a complete shock when a car pulled up abruptly on the side of the road as he walked home. It was a black car with stained windows, and Will vaguely remember thinking that it looked familiar before the door swung open and a man with unruly blond hair and glasses climbed out.

“Hey!” He said cheerily to Will.

Will stopped in his tracks. “Hi,” he said, confused.

The man gestured to his car. “Why don’t you join us for a ride?” he said.

Will frowned. “Uh, no thank you,” he said, taking a step back as the man took a step forward. He had an uneasy feeling.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said the man. “I made that sound like you had an option, didn’t I?”

Before Will could respond, two large men got out of the car and stalked towards him. His heart sped up and he turned around to run in the other direction, but one of the men grabbed him in a chokehold before he got far and the other picked him up by the feet. They covered Will’s mouth before he was able to scream and carried him to the car. His resistance was completely futile.

“Well done, boys,” said the blond man, who stood with the same smile on his face as before.

The men took away Will’s backpack and cellphone after they sat him in the middle seat of the back of the car. They sat on either side of him, each with a tight grasp on Will’s arms so he couldn’t move. The blond climbed into the front seat and motioned the driver to go.

“Who are you?” Will demanded. “And where are you taking me?”

He looked over his shoulder at Will and smiled. “Don’t bother screaming,” he said. “No one will hear you.”

It did not matter how many questions he asked. The blond man didn’t acknowledge anything he said. He would instead tell him little stories about the places they passed. He pointed out a tree that he fell off when he was young, and he pointed out an old pond where he used to go swimming. The more he talked, the more Will realized that they were taking him somewhere far away from any other residents. His heart was pounding in his chest and he broke out in sweat. He begged to know what they were going to do to him, only to be ignored.

He was taken to a gigantic farm. The men, still holding onto both of Will’s arms, guided him as they followed the blond. Will had tried his hardest to get away from them, but they did not let him go. It was clear that this was not their first kidnapping (or whatever the fuck was going on here) and Will gave up trying to resist, and just walked wherever they were leading him to. He didn’t scream. There were no other buildings anywhere nearby.

“Welcome to the family farm. We’re in the meat industry!” The blond said as he led Will and the men into the stables. “This place is my favourite,” He said. “It offers the most privacy.”

Will frowned. “Privacy for what?” He asked with a shaking voice.

The blond smiled. “Whatever we like, of course!”

He gave the men a nod, and they forced Will down to his hands and knees. Will’s heart began to speed up even more than it was already. “What are you—”

Before he could finish, a fist came down on his back, knocking the wind out of him as he fell down onto the ground. A kick to the head immediately followed.

“Now, now, boys!” the blond said. “We don’t want to kill him or give him any brain damage. Avoid the head.”

“Yes, sir,” said one of the men before grabbing Will and yanking him up onto his feet. He pinned Will’s arms behind his back as the other man threw a punch, hitting him in the eye.

“What did I just say about the head?” cried the blond. “You can hit him anywhere else you want.”

“No, please—” A round of hard punches to the chest and stomach cut off Will’s protests. He struggled to get out of the man’s grasp but it didn’t make a difference no matter how hard he tried, there was no getting away from them.

After a few minutes, they threw Will down onto the ground. He gasped for air and coughed but before he could regain any composure, he was kicked in the side. After what seemed like hours of kicks to the stomach, arms, and ribs, the blond told the men to stop.

“That’s enough,” he said. “I think he’s had enough for now.”

The men dragged Will up to his feet, holding him up by his arms. He stood, wheezing, but relied mostly on their hold to keep him up. He felt like his insides were bleeding out as they walked him back to the car.

“Wh…why did you do this?” He asked when they got to the vehicle. His vision was blurred, his glasses broken and his voice raspy. He wanted desperately to understand.

The blond man turned to him, still smiling his twisted smile. “To send a message.” He took three large steps forward so that his face was centimetres away from Will’s. “If you ever come near Margot again,” he said, “I will feed you to my pigs.”

Will tried to process the implications of what the man just said. _Margot? What does Margot have to do with anything?_

The man grabbed Will’s face. “Do you hear me?” he said. “Stay away from her. It won’t matter how sneaky you try to be. I will always know if you’ve been anywhere close to her.”

Will tried to blink some of the dirt from his eyes. One was swollen from that first punch and his shattered glasses did nothing to help clear his vision. “Who are you?”

The man took a step back and bowed. “Mason Verger, at your acquaintance,” he said.

“Ve-Verger?”

“I do hope you understand my message,” he said, motioning the men to get into the car, which they did. Mason leaned in, his elbows resting against the open window of the backseat. “Oh, and don’t bother trying to get the police involved,” he said. “Things will only get much, much worse for you if you do that.” He signalled for the driver to go, not getting into the car this time.

They took Will right back to where they had picked him up and dumped him onto the sidewalk, along with his bag and his phone, which was ringing. He lay in a pile on the sidewalk, hurting everywhere. He tried to get up, only to throw up and then fall back down. After a few minutes of lying there, his brain finally registered that someone had been calling his phone over and over. Will reached over and picked up.

His father’s panicked voice was on the other side of the line. “Will?”

Will groaned before speaking. “Dad?” he gasped out.

“I’ve been trying to call you for the past hour! Where are you?”


	10. Latter Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is pissed and wants answers.

Three days, and multiple tantrums on his father’s part, later, Will returned to school. He had two broken ribs and a burst vein in his eye, which was slightly less swollen but still bruised. He felt like absolute shit and looked it.

His father wanted to find the people who jumped Will, and he notified to police. Will, however, lied and said that he didn’t see who had beaten him up. He believed Mason when he said that things would get much worse for him if he told. Plus, he wanted to talk to Margot before he did anything.

People in the school had all found out what had happened by the time Will had returned and he got a lot of stares throughout the day. Strangers would ask him if he was doing all right in the halls and classmates he had never talked to him asked him questions about the experience and his bandages.

Luckily, Beverly and the rest of his friends were quick to fight them off. They knew that Will wasn’t particularly fond of attention and made sure he got as little as possible. That didn’t stop them from asking questions, of course. Will told him the same as he had told everyone. Alana expressed her concern through sad looks and kind gestures. Jimmy expressed his concern through making corny jokes and telling Will random facts about animals. Brian and Beverly expressed their concern through absolute rage towards the attackers.

Principal Crawford called Will into his office at lunch to talk about what had happened. After a brief explanation—that it was random act of violence on the way home from school—Crawford brought up Hannibal Lecter.

“He tells me you haven’t been to counselling for the past couple weeks,” he said.

“I don’t feel comfortable talking to Hannibal,” Will said defensively.

“Why is that?”

“My grades have been suffering because of what he has been saying to me,” explained Will. “I don’t want to be under his influence.”

Crawford narrowed his eyes at him. “Hannibal has been keeping me up to date with your progress,” he said. “I have been told that he has been trying to help you choose a college and a career path.”

“Well, he hasn’t really been doing a good job at that then, has he?” Will muttered.

Crawford seemed too be aggravated by Will’s tone. “You cannot blame Mr. Lecter for your grades slipping,” he said. “You are the one responsible for them. He is only trying to help you.”

Will nodded, knowing right away that it wouldn’t work to his favour to argue with the principal. “You are right, sir,” he said. “But I don’t think that I really need to go to counselling anymore.”

“I have to disagree.”

Will looked up at Crawford, panicked. “What?”

“Your grades _are_ slipping. They are significantly lower than your marks from your previous schools,” said Crawford. “And considering that you were just a victim of this attack, you really need somebody to talk to.”

“So I’ll talk to my friends!”

“Your friends won’t be able to help you very much in this situation, Mr. Graham,” said Crawford, shaking his head. “Mr. Lecter, on the other hand, will be able to help you more than you know.”

“Sir, I promise you that I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you,” said Crawford.

“Please, don’t make me go see him again!” Will said, trying as hard as he could to keep from sounding like he was begging.

“I’ve talked to Mr. Lecter, as well as to your father, and we all agree that it is for your best interest to keep going to counselling,” said Crawford, ignoring Will’s protest. “I will be checking to make sure you go myself.”

Will stared dumbfounded at the principal. “Does it matter at all what I say?”

Crawford took a deep breath. “That will be all, Mr. Graham,” he said, dismissing him.

Will stormed out of the office. _Fuck!_ He wanted to kick and scream, throw a proper tantrum, and break everything. _Why is everything going to absolute fucking shit?_

Hannibal had become toxic to Will, and since he had stopped going to counselling, he had noticed that he was paying more attention in class, less stressed, and happier overall. There was no question about it. Will _knew_ Hannibal was bad for him.

“Mr. Graham!”

Will turned to see a smiling Matthew Brown walking towards him, accompanied by a short redheaded girl that he had seen with Margot on occasion.

“Matt, I’ve told you to call me Will,” he muttered. He and Matt had spoken on occasion after their first meeting, and for some reason, he never called Will by his first name. It was clear that he liked Will, but he also knew that Will wasn’t attracted to boys and he respected that. Will didn’t have to worry about any unwanted advances.

“And I’m certain I will one of these days, but today is not that day,” Matthew replied.  “This is Freddie,” he added, gesturing to the redhead.

Will liked Matthew but he was not in the mood for an introduction or a friendly conversation. “Have you seen Margot around?” He asked.

Freddie crossed her arms at this. “She’s at her locker,” she said, almost defensively. “Why do you care?”

Will didn’t even look at Freddie, let alone acknowledge what she said, and pushed past the two of them and headed towards Margot’s locker.

When he saw that she was still at her locker, Will marched up to her and slammed her locker shut, the door barely missing her fingers when it closed. She gasped and turned to him. “You scared me,” she said.

“I really don’t give a shit,” Will sad through clenched teeth. He was angrier than he thought he would be, which was unfortunate because he had hoped to keep the conversation as calm as he could.

Margot looked at him, unsurprised. “What do you want, Will?”

“An explanation, maybe?” He spat.

“We can’t talk about this here,” said Margot, turning and walking down the hallway. “Come on.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!”

Margot stopped and turned to him. “Then you aren’t getting an explanation,” she stated.

Will huffed, but he obliged and followed Margot into an empty classroom. “You don’t seem surprised at my appearance, Margot,” said Will when they were both alone in the room.

“Everyone has heard what happened, Will,” said Margot indifferently.

“Yes, but I’m guessing you had something to do with it,” sneered Will.

Margot sat on the teacher’s desk at the front of the classroom. “I don’t control what Mason does,” she stated simply.

“But you knew, didn’t you?” Will accused. “You knew he was going to do something!”

“Yes, I did,” she said. “He has had people watching me for almost two weeks now. I needed to lead him in the wrong direction.”

Will took a moment to process what she had said, and he finally understood why she had slept with him. He was the scapegoat. “You slept with me so he wouldn’t know who you’re actually sleeping with?” Will said, completely disgusted.

Margot looked up at him, her expression still passive. “I’m not proud of what I did.”

“Nor should you be,” Will huffed. “You said—”

“I lied.”

Will ran his hand over his face. So far, Margot wasn’t offering much explanation to what had happened. “But why did Mason do this?” he asked.

“Because he thinks he owns me,” she replied. “Surely, you noticed all of my scars. He’s the one behind them all.”

Will thought back to all of the scars that covered Margot. His face dropped. “He cuts you?”

Margot shrugged. “Cuts. Burns. Hits, punches, slaps, kicks, everything,” she said indifferently. “He’s very creative. He uses razors sometimes, but he likes to experiment. He’ll use butter knives, baseball bats, pencils, tweezers… Anything that would prolong the pain.”

“Oh my god,” whispered Will, not knowing what else to say. His anger momentarily dissolved.

“He found out that I was with someone,” Margot continued. “And I’m sorry that I did this to you, but I couldn’t let him hurt the girl I love.”

Will looked up at her. Her voice was steady, but Will could see that she was shaking.

“He got what he wanted,” she murmured. “He thinks that he got rid of whoever I am involved with and now we can all go back to living our lives like normal.”

“Why me?”

Margot sighed. “When Hannibal said I needed to distract Mason, you were my best option, so I—”

“Wait,” interrupted Will, standing up straight. “What does Hannibal have to do with this?”

“Oh, he knows everything.”

Will felt something heavy settle in the pit of his stomach. “Did… Did he tell you to do this?” He stammered.

Margot narrowed her eyes at Will. “No, he just told me to distract Mason,” she explained slowly. “This was the only way I could.”

“Hannibal told me to get closer to you,” said Will, “To be your friend.”

Margot faltered. “He did?”

Will’s anger returned to him, but this time it was not directed at any of the Vergers, but at Hannibal. “There is no way that sick, twisted man didn’t know what you would do,” he snarled, struggling to keep himself from shaking with rage. He clenched his fists.

“He’s not psychic, Will,” Margot offered.

“There is no way that this wasn’t planned,” repeated Will.

“It _was_ planned,” Margot reminded him. “ _I_ planned it.”

“No, you didn’t,” said Will, shaking his head. “This definitely was not your idea. You think it was, but it wasn’t.”

Before Margot could respond, Will turned and left the room.


	11. Miles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana and Chilton talk

“Dr. Chilton?”

Chilton sighed at his desk. He didn’t have to look up to know whom the voice belonged to. It was the same voice that had been ringing in his ears for the past week. He couldn’t get rid of it. “Yes, Miss Bloom?” He asked, not looking away from his laptop.

Alana entered the classroom slowly, hesitantly. It was lunchtime and she had excused herself from her friends in the cafeteria because she couldn’t take not speaking with Chilton. Ever since he kissed her last week, they had been avoiding each other as much as possible (which had proven to be extremely difficult, seeing as they had to spend 75 minutes in the same room everyday). She had had enough of the awkwardness with which he treated her. “I was hoping we could talk,” she said, standing in front of his desk.

“What about?” muttered Chilton, his eyes looking over her shoulder, towards the door.

“You know what about.”

He closed his eyes and removed his glasses. “There is nothing to say,” he said. “I am really sorry about what I did, and I appreciate very much that you have remained silent about the matter.”

“After you said that you were sorry, I thought things would go back to normal.”

Chilton let out a deep breath through his nose. “They have,” he stated.

“We both know that’s a lie,” said Alana. “You have barely looked at me since you ki… Since you did what you did.”

When Chilton didn’t respond, Alana ripped out a piece of paper from her binder and wrote her number down on it. “Here,” she said, handing it to him.

“I can’t take that,” Chilton said. “It’s highly inappropriate.”

“So is what you did,” retorted Alana.

“Miss Bloom, I will not take that,” Chilton repeated.

“We need to talk about what happened,” said Alana, her arm still outstretched. “And we can’t do that here.”

Chilton looked at her for a moment before returning his gaze to his laptop. “I will not be taking that,” he said.

Alana rolled her eyes, but he didn’t notice. She placed the paper with her number on it down on Chilton’s desk, hoping he would change his mind, and left the room.

The rest of the day passed without a call from Chilton, and so did the day after. It was on the third day, however, that he picked up the piece of paper Alana had left on his desk and twirled it around in his hand. He had thrown it out so many times, only to fish it back out. It was Saturday and the morning sun was melting the snow on the ground to reveal the ugly yellow-brown grass that was exposed every March. The seasons were changing. Chilton picked up his phone and typed out a text, not knowing how to talk to Alana on the phone.

_You’re right. We should talk._

Twenty minutes went by without a reply and Chilton started to panic. He double-checked to make sure he had the number right. He did. _She probably doesn’t want to talk anymore,_ he thought bitterly to himself.

Then, on the twenty-first minute, he got a reply. _Who is this?_ The text read.

Chilton wanted to slap himself. Of course, she didn’t have his number. Why didn’t he say whom the text was from? He stared at his phone for a moment, contemplating whether he should say anything. It was like he had been given a second chance to back out.

 _I’m only going to change my mind again if I back out now,_ he thought. He sent Alana a text, telling her who he was.

She replied to that text within seconds. _When and where?_

 

“Would you like something to drink?” Chilton asked. He had invited Alana over to his house, figuring that’s where they would have the most privacy, but now that she was here, he felt awkward and slightly uncomfortable.

“No, thank you,” Alana said timidly. She kept playing with the sleeves of her dress.

Chilton cleared his throat. “You know, I feel like this could be a very long talk,” he said, “So maybe you should have something.”

“Oh. Then water is fine.”

There was a prolonged awkwardness as Chilton poured Alana and himself a glass of water and then lead her to the living room. “So where would you like to start?” he asked, sitting on the couch and placing the water on the coffee table.

Alana sat down next to him. “I think we should get right down to it.”

“Okay.” She wasn’t sitting that close to him, but Chilton still became hyperaware of her presence and movements. “Go right ahead.”

She played with the hem of her dress and bit her lips. “Had you planned on…doing what you did?” She asked nervously.

“No. Absolutely not,” replied Chilton quickly. “It was a completely impulsive thing that I didn’t even think about doing until two seconds before I did it.”

Alana nodded. “And what about afterwards? Did you think about doing it afterwards?” She asked hesitantly.

Chilton didn’t answer; he only stared at her. How was he supposed to answer that question? Of course he had thought about it. He had thought about little else, but he couldn’t really tell her that.

“Because I… I keep thinking about it,” Alana mumbled when he didn’t speak. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

A feeling of guilt shot through Chilton’s stomach as he watched her on the sofa. She looked so vulnerable, the way she sat with her shoulders hunched and her hands on her lap, like she was trying to take up as little space as possible. “Alana,” He sighed, “I am so sorry.”

“Please stop apologizing,” she said. “I know you’re sorry, but I don’t want you to be because I…” She turned her face towards him, but didn’t look right into his eyes. Instead, she stared at his chin before continuing. “I liked it.”

Chilton felt a surge of complete panic and terror, and he knew it showed on his face. “I don’t want to hear that, Alana,” he said, desperate to make her understand. “Nothing can happen between us.”

She looked as if she knew he would say what he did. “Why did you kiss me?” she asked weakly.

“I don’t know,” Chilton replied quickly.

“Please just try to explain,” she pleaded. “It’s driving me insane.”

He sighed and tried to make sense of his jumbled thoughts. “Well, I’ve been trying to be nicer to students lately and I decided to start with you,” he started slowly. “And you were so open and receptive, which I hadn’t expected. And we spent those couple lunches together, and I had a great time and I thought you were so sweet and I mean…” he stopped and sighed. He would never have thought that he would be having this conversation. “It was probably just me, but I thought I felt a connection,” he admitted after a short pause.

Alana took his hand in hers. “You did,” she said. “There was definitely a connection.”

“I just really appreciated how willing you were to forgive me,” he mumbled.

“There wasn’t really much to forgive, Dr. Chilton.”

Chilton snatched his hand away from hers. “We can’t do this,” he stated.

“Why not?” Alana asked unapologetically.

“It’s ina—”

“Inappropriate,” she finished. “Yes, I know.”

“And _illegal._ ”

“But I like you. I know you like me. And I want to give this a try.”

He looked at her, trying not to let the panic show in his eyes. “What makes you think I like you?” he asked.

“Are you really going to play that card?” she asked in turn.

Chilton sighed and looked away from her. “We shouldn’t. It isn’t right and it isn’t smart.”

Alana paused, then moved closer to him on the couch, so that she was almost touching him. She ignored how he seemed to stiffen when she neared. “I’m a smart girl,” she murmured hesitantly. “I have been making good decisions all my life. And I…I think I need to something stupid at least once in my high school career.”

Chilton felt all his muscles tense up. He squeezed his eyes shut. “You call me Dr. Chilton, for fuck’s sake,” he said pleadingly.

Alana watched the pained expression on his face as he faced the wall in front of him. She knew he wanted her, and that’s why he was having such a hard time with all of this. But if all he needed was for her to say his name... “Frederick,” she whispered.

Chilton put his hand up to his face. “Fuck,” he groaned.

“Frederick,” she repeated.

“Stop it.”

“Frederick.”

“Stop it!” he cried out suddenly. He turned to look at her and she stared back with wide, pleading eyes. They watched each other for a moment, both looking helpless, and Chilton could no longer stand not being able to touch her. He exhaled and threw out all of his inner protests and ignored his brain completely as he grabbed Alana’s face and kissed her.

This time, it was not chaste, but instead urgent and desperate, and she kissed him back immediately and just as enthusiastically. Their lips parted and their teeth smashed and their tongues danced in each other’s mouths. Chilton ignored every single thought in his head and focused on how her lips tasted. He tangled his fingers in her hair, holding her head in place.

Alana didn’t know what to do with her hands at first. She touched his neck, then his waist, then held onto his forearms, before finally settling on grabbing his shirt by the fistfuls and pulling him closer to her. She didn’t know what had come over her, but this was definitely not what she had thought would happen when he invited her over. His mouth felt rough against hers and his beard scratched her skin and his hands were strong against her scalp and she was worried that he would somehow be able to feel her pulse pounding in her neck. But then again, she could feel his heart racing in his chest through the fabric of his shirt.

His teeth grazed her tongue and she whimpered into his mouth, which caused him to moan. She felt a heat rush up through her body and a pool of wetness form between her thighs. Before she could process what she was doing, Alana had climbed onto his lap to straddle him.

Chilton ripped his mouth away from hers. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he gasped out between heavy breaths.

Alana nodded, also out of breath. “I-I know,” she stammered, before kissing him again.

He didn’t resist.


	12. Wrecking Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> __  
> ~~I made myself sad when I wrote this~~  
>  Margot has some unforeseen difficulties concerning her brother.

Margot always kept her bedroom door locked. Mason always questioned why she did it because he had a key and could walk in whenever he felt like it, but she kept it locked anyway. It was because she could hear Mason turning the key in the lock and those couple seconds would give Margot enough time to brace herself for whatever he planned to do. She lived in constant fear. Sometimes he would only threaten her, or give her a small scrape, and other times, he would scar her. There was never much knowing where on the spectrum he would be at any given time.

This day, he was on a rampage. Margot knew it as soon as he swung open the door and marched into her room. “Good evening, Margot,” he said, giving her his twisted smile.

Margot stood, her stomach twisting in knots.

Mason crossed the room towards her. “Papa got an interesting phone call today,” he said, taking her hands in his, “From a man who goes by the name Hannibal Lecter.”

Margot’s eyes widened in surprise and her breathing became shallow. “What did he say?” she asked.

Mason squeezed Margot’s hands hard. “He said that he was told by a concerned student that a certain Verger was being abused by her older brother. Do you know anything about that silly accusation?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Margot said quickly.

Mason reached up and put one hand on the back of her neck. “That’s clearly a lie, sister dear,” he said, stroking small arcs with his thumb. “ _Someone_ must have told that student. And it sure wasn’t me.”

Before Margot could say anything in response, Mason knotted a fist in her hair and used it to guide her out of her bedroom. “Come on,” he spat.

He dragged Margot downstairs. “Papa sure was angry when he got off the phone,” he said. “I couldn’t tell if he was mad at me for doing what I do, or at you for trying to get other people involved. You know how he hates bad publicity.” He took her to the kitchen and, without letting go of her, he picked up a pot from the stove. “I left this water to boil before coming up to see you,” he said. “I think it’s a good way to let you know not to ever do this again.”

Margot tried to get away from him, but his grip on her hair only tightened. “Don’t fight me, Margot,” he said, kicking her down onto her elbows. “Brace yourself,” he said. “This might hurt a bit.”

Margot cried out as he poured the boiling water on her back.

 

The following day was Monday, and Margot didn’t go to school because the bandages on her back made it hard for her to do much of anything. Mason had told Papa that she had knocked a pot of boiling water on herself as she walked through the kitchen, but all three of them knew that it was Mason’s doing.

Though she stayed home for most of the day, Margot left for school at 2:30 while Papa and Mason were out. She got there five minutes before dismissal and waited for Will to come out so she could talk to him. He was only one who knew about Mason, so it must have been he who forced Hannibal to get involved.

Soon, she saw Will walking towards the student parking lot, accompanied with Beverly, and walked towards him. She hadn’t planned on what she was going to say, but she knew she wanted him to tell her why he did what he did. She knew that he wasn’t exactly happy with her after what she did, but he sure didn’t seem like the type of person who would retaliate in this way. He seemed to be the kind of person who would put worms in her locker, or just shun her altogether.

“Will!” she said.

He turned, the smile on his face fading as soon as he saw her.

“We need to talk,” Margot stated.

Will crossed his arms. “Alright,” he said, not moving away from Beverly.

Margot looked at Beverly. “Will you excuse us, please?” she said, trying to keep calm despite the sudden rage she was feeling.

“I’ll be in my car,” said Beverly to Will as she left.

Margot lead Will to the side of the parking lot and into the cluster of trees surrounding it, where no one had parked and no one could hear them. “Why did you do it?” Margot demanded.

“What?”

“I get that you’re mad at me, but I didn’t think that you would do _this!_ ”

Will furrowed his eyebrows at her. “Do what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” Margot yelled, her fists clenching at her sides.

“I’m not!” Will responded, raising his voice. “I have no clue what you’re talking about!”

“You’re the only one that knows about Mason other than Hannibal!” She screamed. “I know he didn’t decide to tell my dad on his own! You must have convinced him!”

The confusion left Will’s face and he understood. “Margot, I didn’t talk to Hannibal about anything,” he said, stepping towards her.

“Fuck you!” Margot yelled, pushing him away from her. “You made things a hundred times worse than they were!”

“Margot, I—”

Before he could finish, a voice came from behind him. “He didn’t do anything, Margot.”

Will turned to see the redhead he met last week approaching them.

Margot’s anger faded from her face and she stared at the girl. “Freddie?”

“I told Lecter,” Freddie stated.

Will looked back from one girl to the other and realized quickly who they were to each other. “I’ll leave you both to it…” he said, walking away slowly, but neither girl paid him any attention.

Margot stood dumbfounded as Freddie approached her, looking as determined as ever. “You told Hannibal?” she said. “But how did you—”

“I followed you and Will the other day, and I overheard you talking,” said Freddie. “As soon as I heard what your brother was doing, I went to Mr. Lecter and told him.”

Margot flushed and felt her anger return. “You should have stuck around to listen to the rest of the conversation, then,” she said, “Because then you would have known that Hannibal already knew.”

“He said he didn’t have a clue when I went to him,” said Freddie.

“He was lying! He wasn’t telling anyone because he knew it would have made things worse for me!” Margot yelled. “You going to him made him have to do something!”

Freddie folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not sorry for helping you,” she stated simply.

“You weren’t helping me!”

“You just don’t know how to recognize help.”

“Tell that to the skin peeling off my back!” Margot screamed, getting angrier and angrier by the second. “I can’t believe you would do this!”

“And I can’t believe that you would cheat on me!” Freddie yelled back.

Margot’s face fell. _Shit._

“I heard that too,” continued Freddie. “I thought I was being paranoid about all the time you were spending with Will, but I guess I had the right to be.”

Margot took a deep breath. “I did that to protect you,” she explained.

“You don’t need to protect me, Margot. I can take care of myself,” said Freddie.

“I know you can, but Mason is dangerous,” Margot said.

“How?”

“You saw what he did to Will! That’s how!” Margot cried. “I wanted you to be safe!”

“I don’t believe you,” Freddie replied, shaking her head.

“What?”

“You could have gotten Mason to leave you alone differently,” Freddie said, her arms dropping to her side.

“I had to make him think I was with Will!” Margot explained.

“No, you didn’t!” said Freddie, her voice starting to rise.

“Yes, I did! I needed a distraction!”

"But you didn’t have to actually sleep with him to do it, Margot!” Freddie yelled suddenly, her voice filled with rage and hurt. “You could have just invited him to your house and snuck him out a window! You could have held his hand or you could have even just kissed him! You could have done so much but you didn’t have to actually fuck him!”

“Yes I did! I had to or else Mason would have known it wasn’t real!” Margot yelled back.

“No, he wouldn’t have,” Freddie said, shaking her head.

“Yes he would have! He knows everything!” Even though she was shouting, Margot knew she sounded desperate. “I can’t hide things from him, he will always find out!”

“But then you didn’t think he would find out about me?” retorted Freddie.

“No! Because I kept that from happening!” her voice was starting to crack. “I kept him from knowing—”

“But I thought he knew everything,” Freddie stated.

“But I kept this secret,” Margot replied in the same tone.

“But you said he knows everything.”

Margot took a quivering breath and shook her head.

“I thought he would find everything out,” said Freddie.

“Shut up.”

“You said you couldn’t hide anything from him.”

“Shut up!”

“You didn’t have to do any of this Margot! None of it!”

“ _Shut up or I_ —”

“ _WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?_ ”

The sudden volume of Freddie’s question caught Margot completely off-guard. She looked down at the fuming, panting redhead with her mouth hanging. She had never seen her so angry before.

Freddie stared into Margot’s eyes as she regained her composure and continued, her voice low and threatening. “Hit me?” She said.

Margot felt her stomach churn and her head ache and her heart speed up. Freddie’s words hit her like a blow to the head and they hurt more than anything Mason could ever think of doing. She clenched her teeth to keep her lip from quivering and turned away, not trusting herself to keep her composure for a second longer. Tears streamed down her face as soon as she took the first step away from Freddie. She wanted desperately for her to call her back, but Freddie just let Margot walk off.

Margot drove home as fast as she could and went upstairs, thankful that Papa and Mason were still away. She ran up to her bedroom and covered her face with her pillow to stifle the sound of her screams.


	13. Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beverly notices something is up with her friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A filler chapter, but necessary.

“So I get that midterms are coming up and everything, and that we’re all stressed out about them, but I didn’t think you guys would act so differently,” Beverly said, rolling her eyes.

Alana chuckled and Will looked at Beverly curiously. The three of them were hanging out on the bleachers by the soccer field behind the school. They had last period off and decided to just stay at the school and enjoy the mid-March weather. “What are you talking about?” Will asked.

Bev shrugged. “It was just my ever so subtle way of asking what has gotten into the two of you,” she explained.

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Alana, perhaps a little too quickly.

Beverly looked at her. “Oh, there is definitely something you aren’t telling us, Alana,” she said.

“You _have_ been a lot happier lately,” Will said.

Alana pouted at him. “And is that wrong?”

“No, but there’s got to be a reason behind it!” he replied.

“Wait,” Beverly said suddenly, “You’re dating someone, aren’t you?!”

“No!” Alana exclaimed, turning red. “Okay, fine,” she added when Beverly gave her a knowing look. “I started seeing someone, but we aren’t exactly together.”

“I knew it!,” said Beverly, pumping her fist in the air. “Who is he? Do we know him?”

Alana shook her head, trying not to look nervous. “He doesn’t go here.”

“So how’d you meet?”

“Uh…” Alana felt her cheeks turning red as she tried to think of a response.

“My god, Alana, don’t you think you’re a little old to blush over boys?” Beverly said.

“Yes, I do,” Alana said proudly. “But I don’t want to tell you how I met him.”

Beverly narrowed her eyes at her. “Is there something special about this guy?”

Alana shifted nervously in her seat. “Well, kind of,” she said hesitantly. “He’s different than the guys I’ve dated before.”

“I’m interested. Tell me.”

Alana huffed before speaking. “He’s really smart,” she started slowly, “And really nice and…”

“Wow, you’re right,” said Beverly sarcastically. “Doesn’t sound like anyone you’ve been involved with before!”

“Well, he’s not that nice, actually…” Alana added sheepishly.

Beverly laughed. “Oh my god,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Teenagers.”

“Hey, I’m 18 so I’m technically an adult!” Alana said defensively. “Besides, you are only older than me by three months!”

“Yes, but—”

“He’s older.”

The girls turned to Will, who had been sitting back and listening up until that point. “What?” they said.

“He’s older,” Will repeated. “Significantly. You wouldn’t have been so defensive about being an adult if he was our age.”

A silence followed as both Will and Beverly looked at Alana and waited for her to say something. She looked away from the both of them and played with the hem of her dress. “Okay, this whole reading people thing that you do is starting to scare me,” she finally muttered at Will.

“I knew it!” exclaimed Will.

“You’re dating an older guy!?” cried Beverly.

“Yes. He’s…in college,” Alana admitted quietly, hoping Will wouldn’t catch on to her lying and mistake it for being shy.

“And how is that like?”

Alana thought for a moment about what she could say that would make Beverly stop asking about the guy altogether without making it too obvious that she was trying to avoid talking more about him. “Well, he made me orgasm,” she said, trying to suppress a smile. Be the situation as it may, that was one fact that Alana didn’t mind sharing with Beverly. It was too bad that Will was there, too, because he looked completely taken aback.

Beverly, on the other hand, only looked excited. “What!?” she cried. “Yes, he is definitely _not_ a teenager then!”

Alana laughed, but Will looked mildly offended. “What, can teenage guys not make a girl orgasm?” he said.

“Nope,” said Beverly.

“Not even a little,” said Alana at the same time.

“I don’t expect an orgasm until my second year of university, to be honest,” Beverly stated. “Unless I hook up with a girl, of course,” she added.

Will made a hmph noise and leaned back, but neither of the girls paid him much attention.

“So what is it like?” asked Beverly to Alana.

“Guys! I don’t want to hear about this!” Will cried.

Beverly shot Will an irritated glance. “What, so guys can talk about their getting laid all they want but as soon as girls want to talk about it, there’s a problem?”

“When have I ever talked about my dick to you both?!”

Alana laughed and Beverly rolled her eyes. “Then plug your ears,” she said.

“No, Will’s right,” Alana said. “I can always tell you more later.” She got a text when she said it, and pulled out her phone. “That’s probably my mom. She’s picking me up… and she just got here!” She gathered her things and got up.

“Oh, is it already 3:00?” Beverly turned to Will. “You want to head home, too?”

Will nodded and the three of them hopped off the bleachers and headed to the front of the school. Will and Beverly said goodbye to Alana and went to the parking lot.

On the drive to Will’s house, Beverly spoke. “Will, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“I meant what I said earlier,” she said seriously. “You have been acting different lately.”

“Okay?”

“You’ve seemed really upset for awhile now and I’m kind of worried.”

Will frowned. He had hoped that his growing frustration and stress wasn’t showing. “So what was your question?” he grumbled.

“Just… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just—”

“Don’t,” Beverly cut off, “I know something’s up. Don’t bother denying it.”

Will huffed. “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, Beverly, but I recently got the shit kicked out of me.” He muttered. “Two broken ribs, black eye, countless bruises…ring a bell?”

Beverly ground her teeth. “I am well aware of that, Will,” she said. “But I think there’s something else.”

“Think whatever you want,” Will mumbled.

“Will.”

“What?” he snapped.

“You do know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know.” Will shifted in his seat. “Do I seem different?” He asked hesitantly after a minute.

“You’re a little different,” Beverly said, “But you’ve always been a little different. Brilliant strategy.” She shot Will a sideways smile. “That way, no one ever knows if something’s up with you.”

“How would I know if something was up with you?”

Beverly shrugged. “You wouldn’t,” she said, “But I would tell you if you asked me. Return the favour?”

Will frowned and stared straight ahead. He knew he could trust Beverly, but what could she do about it? “It’s about Hannibal,” he finally mumbled.

Beverly furrowed her brow in confusion. “What about him?”

Will took a deep breath and explained everything. How he felt manipulated into doing poorly in school, how he was encouraged to stop caring about his work, how Hannibal seemed to want to have some sort of monopoly on him. Beverly had pulled over to the side of the road and listened intently to everything he said and didn’t interrupt him throughout.

“Will…” Beverly started after he was finished. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” Will said firmly.

“Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“I didn’t think there was a point.”

“Well, why don’t you just stop going to counselling, then?” She asked.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried that!?” Will snapped. “He won’t let me! He talked to Jack and to my dad and they all are forcing me to go now.”

“Maybe you’re just taking things the wrong way—” Beverly started.

“I’m not,” he snarled. Beverly was quiet for a moment and Will could tell she wasn’t completely convinced about what he had said, but he realized that he wanted her to believe him badly. “Beverly,” he said. “You remember Margot, right?”

“Yea...”

“You have to swear not to tell a single soul what I’m about to say…”


	14. Wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chilton gets called to the principal's office to speak about a student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first proper Chilton chapter, eyyyyyyy
> 
> Please let me know what you guys think! I am really curious to know how you like the characterizations of the characters and everything.

Frederick didn’t feel right. Because what he was doing was wrong, and it was reckless, and it jeopardized everything he had. He felt bad. He felt wrong. Or at least that was what he told himself, but in reality, he felt amazing. He lied to himself quite a bit, but he lied to himself and said that he didn’t do it that often. It was like a vicious cycle.

The truth was that he felt amazing. It had been two weeks since Alana had come over to his house so they could have their talk and now everything was different. It had been established that both of them knew the dangers if their relationship was discovered, but both of them were also willing to be careful and take the risk. Before coming to that conclusion, there had been a lot of talking, a lot of arguing, a lot of awkward silences, and a lot of… _other_ things.

The first awkward silence took place immediately after their not-so-innocent make-out session. Alana was on his lap with the neckline of her dress pulled down so low that he could see her bra peeking out from the top (it was lemon yellow with a blue ribbon lining the cups). Her hands were clutching and scratching at the nape of his neck and he could feel her heavy breathing on his head as he nibbled and sucked at her collarbone. Frederick’s hands were high on her hips underneath the skirt of her dress when he first felt the twitch in his pants that brought him back to reality.

Alana was a student. He was her teacher. He pulled away and reminded her of that, and she got angry.

“You obviously don’t think of me as just your student!” She had shouted.

Frederick was in no position to disagree with her. But he did it anyway. And then he found himself leaning over her as she lay on the sofa with her hands on his waist and her legs spread as he kissed her. They spent hours like this: arguing, thinking, kissing, touching, arguing again, kissing again, and talking until Frederick finally gave in and admitted that he had feelings for Alana. After that, it was easy enough for her to convince him to see how this goes.

They didn’t do much more than kiss and touch that day, but that changed soon enough. She came over to his house four times the following week and Frederick would always try to be kind to her. The first time, he cooked for her, but his cooking wasn’t particularly good. The second time, she brought food from home, but she hadn’t remembered that he couldn’t eat animal proteins, so he ended up having to pick out bacon bits from the Caesar salad so he could eat it. The most successful date was the third one, when he ordered take-out.

After eating, Alana asked for a tour of his house, which he had been hesitant about, but eventually agreed to. This was how he found himself in his bedroom, dropping his cane and lowering the straps of Alana’s little cotton dress as she ran her fingers softly over the long, vertical scar on his bare stomach. She hadn’t seemed surprised when she saw it.

Soon, she was lying naked on his bed, writhing and moaning as he thrust into her. It had taken an entire 17 minutes for her to calm him down after they were done. She assured him that she was fine, that she wasn’t hurt, that it wasn’t going too fast, that she had wanted this. And when he did calm down, she thanked him.

Acting natural at school had proven to be much easier than Frederick had anticipated. He guessed it was because they had established their relationship and both of them knew where they stood. There were no questions, no misunderstandings. He treated her just like any of his other students and she treated him as she treated any of her other teachers.

It felt strange. He had fallen into a rhythm extremely quickly, just over two weeks, whereas usually it took a lot longer for it to be established in relationships. He didn’t know why it had been so easy with Alana. Maybe it was because he saw her so often or maybe it was because she was so enthusiastic about everything or maybe it was because they both knew they would be serious from the start because of everything that was on the line.

Frederick sat in his classroom after school, correcting tests. He was going over Alana’s and was trying his hardest not to be biased and give her extra points based on technicalities. But my, was her writing adorable…

The class phone beeped, interrupting his thoughts, and the secretary’s voice rang through. “Dr. Clilton, Principal Crawford would like to see you in his office.”

“I’ll be right up,” Frederick responded. _What does Jack want?_ He thought as he finished marking the rest of the question he was on before heading down to the principal’s office.

 

“I would like to talk to you about one of your students,” explained Jack as he looked over his desk at Frederick.

Frederick felt his pulse quicken and his grip on his cane tighten. “Which one?” He asked, trying not to sound nervous. His pulse slowed as soon as he heard the name on Jack’s lips.

“Will Graham.”

It didn’t really matter that it was _his_ name in particular. It only mattered that the name wasn’t Alana’s.

“What about Will would you like to talk about?” asked Frederick.

“I was actually wondering if he seems alright to you,” said Jack, “And if there have been any differences in his personality lately.”

“I don’t think so, Jack,” responded Frederick. “He has been a little out of it lately, but he’s always been a bit strange.”

“Strange how?”

“Well, he seems a bit hyperaware of other people,” said Frederick. “He’s very observant and can draw conclusions extremely quickly. Great problem solver. But his schoolwork and test marks haven’t really been reflecting that.”

Jack nodded thoughtfully. “That is what I’ve been getting from his other teachers, as well,” he said.

“May I ask why this is a concern?” said Frederick.

“A student came to me yesterday and expressed concern about Will’s relationship with Hannibal Lecter,” explained Jack. “She said that Hannibal has been acting unprofessionally and that Will has been affected negatively due to their meetings. Will hasn’t given me a reason to think Hannibal is doing something wrong, so I have been asking his teachers about his behaviour in class.”

Frederick pursed his lips and nodded. “Does Will know about this?”

“No, he does not.”

“Isn’t he the one you need to ask about this?”

“Well, I am not entirely confident that Will is in the right state of mind to give an objective opinion on Hannibal Lecter,” said Jack. “I personally believe that Hannibal could really help Will through the tough time he’s seeing. I don’t believe that Hannibal is the cause of said tough time.”

“I see. Is there anything else, Jack?”

“No, Frederick, that is all.”

“Alright. Good luck with this…investigation, then,” he said, getting up.

Jack chuckled quietly. “Thank you.”

 

On his way back to his classroom, Frederick passed by the guidance office and decided to drop in. Hannibal greeted him with a polite smile and offered him a seat, which Frederick didn’t take.

“I just thought you would like to know where I just was,” Frederick said as he leaned against the guidance counsellor’s doorway. “Jack called me into his office to speak about your relationship with a certain student.”

“In which aspect?” asked Hannibal, seated behind his desk.

Frederick recounted his meeting with Jack to Hannibal, who remained sitting with a neutral expression on his face. “Apparently, you haven’t been appropriate with your students, Hannibal.”

Hannibal looked down at his desk. “Do you know from whom these allegations came?” he asked.

Frederick shrugged. “All I know is that it was not Will himself,” he said. “I assume a friend of his told. Zeller, Price, Katz, Alana… Probably one of those.”

“Well, whichever one of them went to Jack, they are completely wrong about my relationship with Will,” replied Hannibal, “And with the rest of my students, for that matter.”

“You don’t need to get so offended, Hannibal,” said Frederick, swinging his cane forward before stepping away from the doorway. “You aren’t the first school faculty member to be accused of having an inappropriate relationship with a student.”

He was walking away before Hannibal had a chance to respond.


	15. Aspiring Fires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chemistry Midterms + Pissed off Hannibal = Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am half asleep and I do not know whether this chapter is completely coherent or not but have it, anyway.

Tuesday was the day of their chemistry midterm. All of the students in Dr. Chilton’s class were frantically reading through their notes before class. Alana was following Brian and Jimmy as they walked to class while quizzing them using the queue cards she had made. She and Jimmy were both very anxious about the examination, and Brian tried to come across as confident and relaxed about it, but Will could tell that he was just as worried as the rest of them.

Will walked with Beverly towards the chemistry classroom. Beverly seemed to be hiding something from him, but Will decided to dismiss the feeling he was getting. After all, he did drop quite the bomb on her the other day.

He was in the middle of telling her about what had made him late for his first period class in the morning when the two of them were cut off by Hannibal Lecter. He greeted them and Beverly and Will both replied coldly.

“How are the two of you today?” Lecter asked, placing him right in front of the two kids.

“We are great, Mr. Lecter, but Will and I have a midterm right now so forgive us for not staying to chat,” Beverly said to him, coldly. She signalled to Will with her head to walk away.

“Oh? Which class?” Lecter asked but they didn’t acknowledge that he had spoken. He didn’t move out of the way so Will and Beverly had to walk away on either side of him. “I will see you after school, Mr. Graham!” Lecter called as they continued down the hallway.

“What a fucking creep,” Beverly muttered as they walked off.

Will looked at his friend, slightly surprised. He hadn’t really expected Beverly to be so angry; she had always seemed so level headed. Not that he was complaining, of course. Telling Beverly the truth about Hannibal had brought him a sense of relief, and it brought him someone to talk to about his predicament.

Will and Beverly entered the chemistry classroom and took their regular seats with the rest of the group. Right away, Alana turned to the two of them and asked a chemistry question from her queue card.

“Alana, you need to calm down,” Beverly said. “We’ll all be fine.”

“I just want to make sure I’m completely prepared!” Alana retorted.

“My brain does not have the capacity to retain any more chemistry,” said Beverly. “So I’m not going to answer anything you ask me.”

Alana pouted, but turned to Will and looked at him expectantly. “Do you have to answer?”

Will was caught off guard. He hadn’t been paying attention up to this point. “Ethers,” he said quickly.

“Did you even hear my question, Will?” Alana asked, looking slightly offended.

“Not even a bit,” he said.

Before Alana could say anything else, Chilton walked into the classroom with the stack of midterms tucked under his arm. He tapped his cane on the ground. “You all have one minute to put your things away,” he said. “Bags at the back of the room, no phones on your person, blue or black pens only, take the lids off your calculators, blah, blah, blah, you all know the rest.”

The papers were handed out and the class was scribbling away. Chilton could see from the looks on each face who was prepared and who wasn’t. He got up from his desk about twenty minutes into the exam and started walking down the aisles in case a student had a question.

He paused when he reached Beverly. “Excuse me, Miss Katz?” he whispered.

Beverly looked up. “Yes, sir?”

“There is a piece of paper sticking out from underneath your jacket,” Chilton said.

Beverly furrowed her eyebrows and looked down. Sure enough, there was paper peeking out from under the hem of the side of her jacket. She pulled it out and her eyes widened in surprise and confusion. “What…?” The paper was full of formulas and equations. It was a cheat sheet.

By now, the students all had turned their attention towards Beverly, wondering what was going on.

Chilton took the paper from her and looked at it. He frowned. “You might as well stop writing right now, Miss Katz,” he said, putting the paper in his pocket. “You just earned a zero on the midterm.”

“But that’s not mine!” blurted Beverly.

“We can discuss this at the end of the class,” Chilton said, taking her midterm from her desk and turning away from her.

“But sir—”

“Miss Katz, the rest of the class is writing a midterm and you are disrupting them,” he said firmly. “Why don’t you go wait for the end of the period in the library?”

Beverly stared in bewilderment at Chilton. “Sir, I did not make that cheat sheet,” she said firmly.

“We can discuss this with Mr. Crawford next period,” replied Chilton. “You should go for now.”

Beverly obliged. She got up and put her things in her bag and headed towards the door, feeling the eyes of her classmates on her as she walked out.

 

“Suspended! Fucking _suspended_!!”

Alana, Will, Jimmy, and Brian turned. They were all sitting in the cafeteria, talking about what had happened at the midterm. They had approached Chilton after class and insisted that Beverly would never cheat, but he said that there was no other explanation, that it was obvious that she had cheated, and that he had no choice but to report Beverly to the principal.

Beverly was called to Crawford’s office just before lunch had started. Now, she was fuming as she approached the table where her friends sat. “I’ve been suspended for two days! _And_ I got an automatic zero on the midterm!” she cried.

“What!?”

“I mean, it makes sense, right? That’s what you get for cheating,” Beverly snarled, “Except _I didn’t fucking cheat_.”

“You don’t have to tell us that, Beverly. We believe you,” offered Jimmy, but Beverly didn’t seem to calm down in the slightest.

“Well, fuck, Jimmy,” she sneered, “If you guys didn’t believe me, I’d have to get new friends.”

Alana patted a frowning Jimmy on the shoulder. “Beverly, I get that you’re angry, but you don’t have to take it out on Jimmy,” she said.

“What am I supposed to do, Alana? Cry about it?”

“Actually, you should theorize with us,” said Brian. “We’re thinking about what happened that made the cheat sheet magically appear under your jacket. My theory is that an elf was trying to help you, like the ones that helped the shoemaker—”

“Shut _up_ , Brian.”

Brian made a face and took a bite of his food.

“You know, Brian does have a point,” Jimmy muttered after a short but uncomfortable silence. The group looked at him, curious. “Well, obviously there weren’t any elves involved, but someone sure wanted to help you out with the midterm.”

“Or they wanted to frame her for cheating,” said Brian. “If so, they succeeded.”

Beverly narrowed her eyes. A thought immediately crossed her mind and she looked at Will and instantly knew he was thinking the exact same thing.

 

Will glared at Hannibal from across the desk after school. “You’re behind this, aren’t you?”

Hannibal tilted his head to one side. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Will,” he said.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Will spat.

“Is this about your friend being suspended today?” Hannibal asked. “I heard about that.”

“That’s exactly what it’s about.”

“Well, it really is too bad that she got suspended, Will,” Hannibal said. “I know she has your best interests at heart and you trust her with your secrets.”

Will’s expression changed from furious to dumbfound. Did Beverly say something to someone about what he told her?

“She really should learn to be careful with such secrets,” continued Hannibal. “Lest someone discovers she knows more than she should.”

“Yea. You never really know what people are capable of, do you?” muttered Will.

Hannibal smiled. “Precisely.”

 

After the appointment was over, Will stormed out of the building and across the schoolyard, towards his bus stop. He was absolutely furious. He was angry that Beverly had opened her mouth about…well, whatever she opened her mouth about. In any case, it was enough for Hannibal to try to get rid of her like this. Will was angrier at Hannibal for what he did. Beverly was trying to help. He didn’t know what Hannibal was trying to do.

When he reached the bus stop, he saw that there was a boy already there. He couldn’t see who it was because he was wearing a sweatshirt with the hood up. That is, until the boy saw Will approach and stood. “Hello, Mr. Graham,” he greeted.

“Matt,” Will said, involuntarily cracking a smile. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” said Matthew. “I was waiting for you. I know you have sessions on Tuesdays.”

Will pursed his lips. “Matt, you do know that that’s a little…” he paused and took a breath as Matthew continued to watch him intently. “Do you realize that when you do and say stuff like that, it can come across as a bit…”

“Creepy? Stalker-ish?” offered Matt. “Yes, I do.” Will frowned, but Matthew didn’t seem offended at all. “I think we should stick together, Mr. Graham,” he continued.

Will eyed his friend wearily. He had gotten used to him saying Mr. Graham instead of Will and he had gotten used to his blatant, no-nonsense way of speaking. It was interesting, and Will appreciated that Matthew always said what he thought instead of Will having to read into his words to see if they were true. “Why would we have to stick together, Matt?” he asked.

“Well, people don’t understand much about me,” replied Matt, stepping towards Will, “Or about you. We are hawks, you and I”

“Hawks are solitary,” said Will, wanting to see where he was going with this.

“That’s their weakness,” Matt replied. “They can be scared off by smaller birds. Imagine if they started working together.”

Will offered him a small smile before sitting down on the bench. Hearing this suddenly made him think of what Margot had said to him when he first met her. “I once heard you were the person to go to if I need someone taken care of,” Will said hesitantly. He didn’t know if he should do this, but at this point, he couldn’t think of many other options, and if Margot was right, then he wouldn’t need any other options.

Matt looked down at Will attentively, but didn’t say anything.

“I need a favour,” said Will. He was surprised when a serious, determined look suddenly overcame Matthew’s features, completely hardening his expression.

“I am always happy to do a favour for a friend,” he said. “Just say the words.”

Will paused, contemplating again whether he should even be asking him this, before speaking. “I need you to help me get rid of Hannibal Lecter,” he murmured to his friend.

Matt had a completely unreadable expression on his face. It was much darker than Will had become used to. “What do you have in mind, Mr. Graham?” asked Matt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you all think!


	16. Bit by Bit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie decides to take matters into her own hands. Or at least she tries to. But nothing is really going as planned lately.

Freddie made a list. She always made lists. Margot said that it was obsessive and creepy, but Freddie liked to know about the people in her life, so she always kept track of little things that were mentioned, and then made a list. It felt like an investigation, sometimes, like she was uncovering the truth about fellow students.

She considered it to be the same as just paying close attention and remembering little things, but writing them down instead of just remembering them. Margot, for example, was scared of thunderstorms, especially when they knocked the power out. Margot also liked animals, and even though her father’s business was the source of meat in their small town in Maryland, she wanted to work at a shelter. She wanted a more isolated life. She didn’t want kids. She didn’t want to work for a company or under someone else. But Margot had only told Freddie a handful of these things. Everything else, Freddie figured out for herself. Some things, she found out before they even started dating. Those things were what made her realize how compatible the two of them were, and they were part of the reason why she liked Margot so much, and they were strong motivators on why she decided to date Margot, even though she was in the closet.

 _But that’s over now_ , thought Freddie. And it was. It was positively, absolutely, 100% _over_ between her and Margot. She had sent her a text after their fight, after Margot had stormed away from her (from rage? Humiliation? Defeat? All of the above?) reading, _‘In case you hadn’t realized, we are through.’_

Margot was a lot of things. Among those things, secretive, but she never came across as naïve, or unfaithful. She hadn’t been to school all week because of her injury, and at this point, Freddie was still too angry to feel guilty about the part she played in it. She was also too angry to be sad about the breakup. But she was not one to lie to herself, and she knew that she still loved Margot, and she still wanted to help her. And so was working on making up a new list.

Margot’s older brother was not an easy person to learn about, but after doing some digging (and a lot of sneaking around), Freddie found several small offences that he had committed in the local police records. He had to attend court-mandated therapy for the majority of these offences. All the therapists involved had ideas of what was wrong with Mason, but strangely enough, all records of instability and suspicions of dangerous personality were wiped clean after a couple of weeks’ worth of sessions. Freddie knew it didn’t have anything to do with the father paying them off, because it was the family money was the thing that kept Mason from landing in jail.

The only conclusion was that he was blackmailing the therapists somehow, maybe getting them involved in something unethical, because it didn’t make sense that every single one of the therapists have some sort of secret that could destroy their career. No, Mason was definitely doing something wrong. Which shouldn’t be much of a surprise. If he could willingly bring so much harm to his younger sister, who knows what he would do to strangers he didn’t want to deal with.

The only question now was how to get him to stop. The police was evidently not an option.

Freddie felt a tap on her shoulder. She snapped out of her thoughts and looked up to see her teacher standing over her. “Freddie, the last bell rang two minutes ago,” she said. “Are you alright?”

Freddie quickly gathered her thing, fumbling as she dropped them into her bag. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I zoned out a bit.”

“Maybe you should work on that,” the teacher replied. “You barely listened to any of today’s lesson.”

Freddie mumbled another apology and left the classroom. This had been happening ever since she started looking into Mason Verger. _As soon as I can figure out how to get rid of him, I can get back to my actual life,_ she thought as she walked down the hallway. It was obvious that she couldn’t do this alone. From what she had learned, Mason was too conniving and had too much control over what happened to him. No, Freddie needed help. And she knew exactly who to go to.

She had made a list for Matthew Brown soon after she met him. He was an interesting personality: frank, calculating, observant, and, to be blunt, a complete delinquent at times. He was in the eleventh grade, and didn’t particularly care for school. He planned on getting a trade job after graduation because he wasn’t planning on attending college. He was nothing at all like the people that Freddie liked to associate with, but he was friends with Margot and so she saw a lot of him. Interestingly enough, Freddie found that she took a liking towards him. Despite being what he was, Matt was still a good friend.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for you!” she said when she found him at his locker.

Matt turned and looked at her. “Hi,” he greeted. “What’s going on?”

“I need your help taking care of something,” she explained. “Some _one_ ,” she grumpily added when Matt gave her a knowing look.

“I would love to help out, Miss Lounds, but I unfortunately cannot,” he said. “I have promised to help a friend get rid of someone and I do believe it will take quite the bit of time.”

“Margot?”

“What?”

“Is Margot the friend you’re helping out?” asked Freddie. Even though she was still pissed about her sleeping with Will, if they all teamed up to get rid of Mason, then she wouldn’t mind working together.

“No. Who would Margot want to get rid of?” Matt said, closing his locker and leaning against it. “Or are you just trying to ask me about her in a sneaky, subtle way now that you’re broken up?”

“Oh, shut up,” Freddie said, rolling her eyes. “Who are you helping, then?”

“Will Graham.”

Freddie felt her jaw go slack. “ _What?_ ”

“Mr. Graham asked me to help him get rid of a certain someone,” Matt explained. “I’m doing him a favour.”

Freddie felt a sudden rage fill her entire body. “Since when is that _bastard_ your friend!?” She cried out before she could help herself.

Matt raised an eyebrow. “He’s been my friend for awhile now, Miss Lounds,” he said. “I thought you knew that.”

“Well, yea, but I thought that-that after what had happened, you—”

“What happened between Will and Margot is their business, and Margot used to be your business,” Matt interrupted. Freddie had told him about what had happened, and made him promise to not mention it to anyone else what he knew. “I shouldn’t be expected to be angry with them just because you are.”

“Aren’t you mad at him for fucking her, though?” Freddie said.

“No, I’m not,” replied Matt, shrugging. “He doesn’t belong to me, nor are we dating. Why would I be mad at him if he has no commitment to me?”

“Then aren’t you mad at Margot for sleeping with the guy you like?”

“I don’t have a monopoly on Will,” Matt said plainly. “Like I said, he does not belong to me. He isn't mine. I cannot control who he sleeps with and I cannot control who sleeps with him.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Freddie said, dumbfounded completely.

“No, I am not,” Matt said, starting to get irritated (though most people aren’t able to tell when he’s irritated). “And you don’t really have a right to be mad at Will, either.”

Freddie crossed her arms. “Yea, I do,” she said. “I definitely do.”

“No, you don’t,” repeated Matt. “You can be mad at Margot for breaking your trust, but Will is not to blame, and I doubt he knew she was in a relationship when she bedded him.”

“You are un-fucking-believable, Matt,” Freddie snarled.

“I’ve decided to take that as a compliment, so thank you,” he said.

“It’s not a compliment.”

“In any case, I have to go now.” He said as he stood up straight and threw his backpack over his shoulder. “Will is waiting for me.” With that, Matt turned and walked down the hall towards the exit.

“ _Fuck_ ,” hissed Freddie. She kicked the lockers and stormed away. _Guess I’ll have to find another way_ , she thought to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels so messy omf sorry


	17. Little Pistol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Matthew put their plan into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this was ridiculously fun to write. Let me know what you guys think!

There was this strange sort of comfort that Will was feeling. It was slightly unsettling, but not unsettling in the physical way. It was more unsettling in the mental way, in the way that Will couldn’t believe how calm he felt at this moment, but something about Matthew always made him feel relaxed, and Will felt comforted by his presence, despite the task they had at hand.

It was a Friday and Matthew was able to use his mother’s pick-up truck for the day. It was a very old model and very rusted. The engine made loud sounds and the seatbelt on the passenger’s side needed a lot of fiddling before it could actually be put on. It had window cranks and a cassette tape player instead of a CD player. But Will didn’t mind, because it was not that different from his own father’s shitty car. In all honestly, it actually made him feel even more comfortable around Matt.

It was just past seven o’clock and Matt was driving the both of them to Lecter’s cottage, which was secluded and a good few miles away from other buildings. It would be easy to go there and come back without anyone noticing. According to Matthew, Lecter goes there on the third Friday of every month to hunt. Will did not ask him how he got the information.

“He doesn’t seem like the type that hunts,” said Will.

“He also doesn’t seem like the type that frames students for cheating,” replied Matthew.

“I guess you’re right. But I still find it weird.”

“I’m sure you have some strange habits yourself, Mr. Graham,” teased Matthew.

Will smiled. “Not as strange as yours, Matt,” he said. “I don’t have any habits that would make me end up in the position you are in.”

Matthew smiled at first, but it was faint. His face grew solemn and he said, “You know, you didn’t have to come with me to do this.”

“Yes, I did,” said Will. “This was my idea.”

“Yea, but people don’t normally accompany hit men,” countered Matthew.

“Well, we aren’t planning on killing the man, so why should it matter?” Will said.

“What if you get into trouble?”

“At this point, I don’t really care.”

“But this could affect your entire education,” Matt said.

Will frowned. He didn’t really know why Mathew was asking him this. “What about yours, then?” He countered.

“I’m not planning on going to college,” replied Mathew with a shrug. “Never was. So this really won’t make a difference.”

“Yea, well, I’m just going to deal with whatever happens when it happens,” Will grumbled. “All I want right now is for Hannibal to get off my back.”

Matthew nodded and didn’t reply. For a moment, the two of them sat in silence, before Matt spoke again. “He’s loaded, you know,” he said about Lecter. “Could make wallpaper from all his Benjamins. It’s all nheritance and stuff. Bad news is that he’ll be able to afford treatment for whatever I do to him. Good news is that because of that, I don’t need to be gentle. I can do basically anything short of killing him, and he’ll be okay because he can afford going to the hospital.”

Will looked curiously at his friend. “You really thought this through,” he observed.

Matthew looked over at Will and gave him a soft look before returning his eyes to the road. “Of course, I did,” he said. “Though, I have to say, I’m a bit disappointed in you,” he added a moment later.

“What? Why?” Will furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well, considering your amazing brain, I would have thought you could’ve come up with a much more imaginative plan,” explained Matthew.

Will smiled. “I don’t need imagination for this, Matt.,” he said simply. “Just your fists.”

Matt smirked. “If you insist,” he said. The rest of the ride passed in silence, save for the loud engine. But the silence was comfortable.

It took about an hour to get to the cottage, and when they arrived, Will was flabbergasted. Yes, Matthew had said that Hannibal was rich, but he wasn’t expecting _this._ It wasn’t that the cottage itself was that big, but the structure, the size of the land surrounding it, the external decorations alone… it looked like it was cut straight out of a magazine. Matthew, of course, was not taken aback by the property, having been here before, but Will had a feeling that he wasn’t amazed at first sight, either. If anything, he probably would have been annoyed at Lecter’s wealth.

Matthew parked his truck by the curb and the two of them watched the cottage for an indication that Hannibal was, in fact, there. After a moment, they saw his figure walk by a window. The mere sight of him made Will feel uneasy.

Matthew put a hand on Will’s shoulder to get his attention. “You stay put, okay?” he said. “I’ll do what I need to, and Lecter won’t know that you were ever a part of this.”

Will turned to his friend. “I want him to know I am a part of this.”

Matthew pursed his lips and nodded. “I’ll relay the message,” he said before exiting the truck. Will watched him carefully as he walked over to the cottage, marching straight up to the front door and trying to open it. When discovering that it was locked, Matthew tried to open the windows to see if they would open, but they all were locked, so he went back to the door and dropped to his knees. Pulling out a tension wrench and a pick, he picked and unlocked the door. He turned and gave Will a smile and a small wave before disappearing into the building.

Will stared after Matthew and waited. He half expected to hair the sound effects you hear in action movies, but he knew that wouldn’t be the case. Instead, he would have to sit outside in silence and stare at the cottage, imagining what was happening on the other side of the wall.

Maybe if he watched closely enough, he could see a bit of blood splatters or even some shadows reflected on the walls. But after watching the cottage for five minutes, he couldn’t see anything. There was no indication of how anything was going.

But Will knew that Matthew was calculating and level headed when it came to things like this. He had organized everything, he had done his research, and he would make sure to follow the design he had set up for himself. But whatever the build-up may be, the actual task was simple: beat the hell out of Hannibal Lecter. And Matthew was right about it being unimaginative, but Will only wanted to get a message across to Lecter that he would not be taking whatever he does sitting down.

Lecter was beyond following rules, and he was beyond involving others to get what he wanted. Hurting Beverly had been the last straw. Will had stopped caring about what would happen to him. He was just determined to get Lecter the fuck away from him and everyone he cared about.

He had been watching the cottage for ten minutes now and he still hadn’t seen anything. _Maybe I should check what’s going on…_ No, Matthew had said to stay in the truck. He should wait for him. Two more minutes passed and Will only grew more restless. Deciding that he needed to see what was going on for himself, he got out of the truck and walked towards the cottage. He could hear occasional noises as he got closer and closer.

The door was left open a crack, maybe to make things easier if Matthew needed to get out of there. Matt had also parked the truck with the driver’s side facing the cottage, which for that reason. Will walked in slowly, looking around. There was little chaos in the foyer, and little when he looked farther into the house. He tried considering where they could have gone, but then he heard a grunt, followed by a crash coming from a room near the back of the building. Will followed the sound until he reached the open entryway of the kitchen.

He reached the kitchen just in time to see Matthew knock Lecter down using a large pot. He didn’t notice Will enter as he shifted his position and raised the pot over his head, ready to bring it down hard, but Will spoke up before he could do anything.

“Matt.”

Matthew stopped and looked over at Will. Despite what he was doing, Will could see in his eyes that he was in complete control, and nothing he was doing was instinctual. It was deliberate.

The kitchen was a complete mess. Matthew had evidently interrupted Lecter while he was cooking. Pots were knocked over, there were spices and garnishes strewn all over the counter, and pieces of meat sat on the floor next to a discarded apron. Matthew lowered the pot, placed it on the counter and walked towards Will. “I told you to wait in the car,” he said quietly, but Will just looked passed him at Lecter.

“I know,” he said. “But I think this is enough.”

“But—”

“Let’s go, Matt.” Will still did not look away from the man on the floor. Lecter had propped himself up on his elbows and was slowly picking himself up, but his leg appeared to be broken. There was blood smeared across his face, but he barely seemed to notice. He stared straight at Will.

Matthew, wiped the sweat and bits of food from his forehead and walked past Will, but paused when Will stayed rooted to his spot.

Lecter took a laboured breath. “You asked him to do this?” he gasped out at Will.

Matthew piped up before Will could. “What are friends for?” he said, taking Will’s arm and tugging at it.

Will gave Lecter one final glare. “Stay away from me,” he muttered before letting Matthew guide him out the building and to his truck outside.

Will was given a recount of what had happened as the two of them drove off. Matthew had entered and found Lecter in the kitchen, cooking. Lecter recognized Matthew from school and was initially confused, but realized quickly what was happening. There was not a lot of fist fighting, but rather a lot of improvised weapons, with the occasional knife thrown across the room.

“Do you think he’s going to leave me alone now?” asked Will, his voice sounding feebler than he would have ever liked it to.

“I can’t tell you what that man will do,” answered Matthew, “But you sure as hell got your message across to him.”

He didn’t acknowledge Will’s weak tone or his uneven breathing. Will watched Matthew intently. His eye was beginning to swell and the skin on his bicep had begun to peel from when Lecter had pushed him against the heated oven. Blood had stained his shirt and there were rips in his entire outfit. But his face did not betray any of the pain he must have been feeling. Was he completely indestructible or something? Either way, what he had done for Will tonight was much more than just a favour between friends. It was absolutely incredible and Will felt a warmth spread in his chest every time Matthew smiled crookedly at him for a second before returning his gaze to the road.

Matthew parked by the side of the road once they were a reasonable distance away from Lecter’s cottage. It was completely dark outside by now and the road that they had parked on was surrounded entirely by trees. Will sat in his seat as his friend grabbed the change of clothes he had brought with him and hopped out of the vehicle.

He stood beside the truck and took off his bloodied shirt, wincing slightly as he reached behind him, and then used it to wipe some of the blood and whatever else from his torso. As much as Will tried not to, he kept staring at him. From the angle in which Will sat, he could only see from Matthew’s chin, down to his mid thigh. His torso was covered in scars from the undoubtedly countless fights he had been in over his short life. It was easy to tell from all his muscles, however, how he was still alive despite all the violence he constantly brought upon himself.

Will felt his pulse pounding in his neck as Matthew bent down and remove his jeans so that he stood in his underwear. He tore his eyes away when Matthew began to wipe the muck from his legs. He tried to steady his breathing. _What is happening_? He rubbed his face with his hands. _Maybe I need some fresh air._

He climbed out of the truck as Matthew was pulling his extra shirt on over his head. Will walked over to him. “Are you hurt badly?” he mumbled.

“I am, but I’ve had worse,” said Matthew as he threw his dirty clothes onto the backseat. “Don’t worry about me.” He offered Will a comforting smile.

Will’s heart was racing and he couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eye. Instead, he focused on the tiny mole just above his lips. “Thank you again for doing this,” he whispered.

Matthew lowered his head to try and meet Will’s eyes. “I’d do anything for you,” he murmured back. Will’s eyes flickered to meet his, but only for a fleeting second, and Matthew realized how he sounded. “I’m always happy to help out a friend,” he added, hoping to make Will feel less uncomfortable, but Will only offered a small, forced smile.

“A friend,” repeated Will.

“Yes,” replied Matthew.

“Right,” mumbled Will.

The boys stood facing each other for a moment. Matthew looked unwaveringly at Will, willing him to look up and meet his eyes, but Will only stared at the ground beside their feet. He felt a strong pull to Matthew, and he didn’t know what to make of it. And despite seeing what he was capable of tonight, Will felt safe with him. No one made him feel as comfortable, as relaxed, as at ease as Matthew did. No one was as real or as truthful as him. Meeting someone like this was the last thing Will had thought would ever happen, but in the past, whenever he gave into the thought, he had only ever pictured a girl holding his hand.

“So, I know that I’m the one with the limp and burned arm and everything,” said Matthew after a moment, “But how are you feeling?”

 _Oh, fuck it._ Will finally moved his gaze to return Matt’s. He looked into his eyes, seeing warmth reflected in them despite the cold colour. “I… I’m feeling good,” Will sighed. He took a step towards Matthew, who was looking at him curiously. With his heart in his throat, Will leaned forward and pressed his lips to Matthew’s gently, his hands dangling idly by his sides. He did not open his mouth, and he did not deepen the kiss. Barely even two seconds after the initial contact, he pulled away, only to have Matthew chase his mouth and kiss him again. Will sighed against his lips and succumbed to the kiss, letting Matthew deepen it as he held Will’s face in his hands.

His lips were just as soft as any girl’s but his hands were big and strong and felt foreign, and the small hairs from his stubble felt rough and scratchy, very much unlike the soft skin and velvety upper lips he had grown used to. Will put his arms around Matthew’s torso and pulled him closer. The hardened, flat skin that met his was unsettling, not soft and curved like the skin he was familiar with. He was surprised by how little he cared about these discomforts. They did not matter. He was more than willing to adjust to them.

He leisurely rubbed circles on Matthew’s back as he kissed him, and accidentally pressed down on an injury. Matthew inhaled sharply, pulling away from Will, who immediately took his hands away.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he stammered.

Matthew chuckled. “It’s fine, Will,” he said. “Just took me by surprise, is all.”

The boys stood, smiling at each other next to a truck on an empty road in the middle of nowhere in the dark, and all Will could think of was that Matthew had finally called him by his first name. It was a few minutes before the loud snap of a breaking branch on a tree snapped the both of them out of their trance.

Will looked around and let out a short laugh. “We really should get out of here,” he said, shaking his head in astonishment. He still couldn’t believe what had happened this day and his mind was reeling.

Matthew agreed. “Let’s go, then,” he said. They both climbed back into the truck and drove off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *mutters under breath* _Finally._


	18. O My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana and Frederick spend the weekend together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy fluffy fluff fluff fluff

Alana’s Saturday had gone more perfect than she would have thought it would. She had woken up to an empty bed, made on one side, and had gone downstairs to find a fine breakfast prepared for her from Frederick. He had not made it himself, of course, but had hired a caterer. The two of them enjoyed a peaceful morning, then a fun afternoon filled with goofing off and joking around and flirting.

Her parents thought that Alana was staying the weekend at Jimmy’s house. He was really the best option because there was no way that she would be allowed to stay at a boy’s house unless he was gay, plus hers and Beverly’s parents were friendly and often ran into each other at shops so saying that she was at Bev’s wasn’t an option. Jimmy agreed to the plan as soon as she told him it was because she was spending the night at her secret boyfriend’s house.

“Ou, a scandal!” he had exclaimed. “What’s his name?”

“I can’t tell you,” Alana had replied, blushing.

“Then I won’t cover for you,” Jimmy answered.

“You probably won’t even have to…”

“Alana!”

“Fine. His name is…Fred.”

“Doesn’t sound very sexy,” Jimmy had stated after a thoughtful moment.

Alana had laughed. “I can assure you, he is _very_ sexy.”

And he was. Alana had thought Frederick was attractive from the first time she saw him, but it was his personality that had turned her off. But that was generally the case. No one had liked him. He was a lot better to students this semester and it had been the topic of multiple discussions among the AP kids. No one understood the sudden change, but there were many theories. Most of them included some sort of life-and-death situation in which he promised God that he would be kinder if he lived. Kids could be so unoriginal.

Alana loved Frederick’s maturity and his easy-going outlook on relationships. He had expressed to her right from the start that she shouldn’t expect him to behave like the boyfriends she has had before and Alana could only thank him for that. He was much more considerate about how she felt and what she wanted. He didn’t mock her appearance or make comments about what she looked like or tell her what she should wear. He didn’t make penis jokes and he didn’t think degrading her because of her gender was necessary and he didn’t feel the need to ‘be the man’ in their relationship. Although she found herself wondering at times what he would be like if their relationship wasn’t forbidden and wasn’t a secret. In any case, Alana was happier with him than she had been with anyone else.

She had arrived at his house with her backpack full of cute clothes and cute panties and cute bras. She made a conscious effort not to try to dress too mature because she felt that doing that would just draw more attention to her age than if she were to just dress her age. She had gone home to get her things, and then finish her homework, and then she rode her bike to Frederick’s house. He had greeted her with a dinner and a movie and the two of them spent the night talking and laughing and joking around before going to bed, where Frederick asked a blushing Alana what she had never done in bed. Quite a bit, he learned. And so Friday night had been a night of firsts.

Saturday night had been more easy-going. The nervousness and formalities had fallen and the two of them relaxed around each other. Frederick took a shower and shaved as Alana made herself comfortable on the bed in shorts and a tank top. She lay on her side and read passages from one of the books on his shelf. The one she picked up was a history book about the development of education in America and how the current school system came to be. Alana was looking through the section on different types of punishment when Frederick came out of the bathroom in pyjama bottoms, a black t-shirt.

“What are you reading?” he asked, patting his chin and jaw dry with a face towel.

“About different forms of discipline in schools,” Alana replied. “I am seriously so happy that I live in the present. Some of these methods are barbaric.”

“Well, there are still a lot of problems with the education system even now,” Frederick said, sitting down on the bed next to her. “Including methods of discipline.”

Alana pursed her lips. “Definitely. Sometimes girls get suspended for something they clearly didn’t do,” she muttered, flipping through the pages of the book.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” she said, not looking up.

Frederick reached over and closed the book in front of her and put it on the side table. “Is this about Beverly?” he asked.

Alana scowled. “I just don’t believe that she would do it,” she stated.

“Well the cheat sheet I found in her jacket would say otherwise.”

“I don’t buy it,” Alana said, turning so she was lying on her back. “I know Beverly.”

Frederick stayed quiet for a moment before he climbed up onto his side of the bed and leaned against the headboard. He looked down at Alana and watched her face, fresh and youthful. “I’ve been teaching for years,” he finally said. “And I’ve gone to school for much longer than most people. I know from experience what stress can do to people.”

Alana looked stubbornly at him. “Beverly wouldn’t,” she repeated.

“I didn’t think a lot of people would go to the measured that they did, Alana,” he said.

“Maybe it’s because of how hard your class is,” Alana retorted.

Frederick furrowed his eyebrows at her. “Alana—”

“You’re really tough!” She interrupted, sitting up. “And you aren’t exactly helpful towards students. It’s senior year so maybe she was—”

“Alana, you aren’t going to get far if you blame others for your mistakes,” Frederick said, cutting her off. “And you won’t get far at all if you blame others for your friends’ mistakes.”

Alana frowned. She knew he was right, and she knew that what she said came out harsher than she had intended. She didn’t blame Frederick for Beverly’s suspension because telling Jack was the logical thing for him to do, not to mention obligatory. “You’re right,” she murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said, leaning down and giving Alana a kiss before he got up to take the face towel back to the bathroom. “I’m not really that much of a hardass, am I?” he called.

Alana giggle. “You’re pretty bad, actually.”

“Oh.”

“But you’ve gotten better this year.”

Frederick emerged from the bathroom and looked at Alana hopefully. “You think so?” he asked.

Alana nodded. “Absolutely. We all think so, and people are liking you a lot more now, too.” She smiled. “I’m one of them.”

Frederick chuckled, relieved. “I should hope so.”

After a short hesitation, Alana asked, “What made you want to change?”

A thoughtful look passed over Frederick’s face, as if he was contemplating something. “I found something,” he said finally.

“What?”

He walked towards his dresser and pulled out a folded piece of paper and held it out to Alana. “I found this on the floor one day after class,” he explained. “Silly as it seems, it kind of made me take a step back and re-evaluate my methods of teaching and handling student situations.”

“Oh,” said Alana. She took the paper from him and unfolded it. She gasped when she saw what was on it. In her hand was a page from her notes. It had her name on top and some sample questions that had been abandoned. But what mortified her completely was that it was the one page on which she had drawn Frederick Chilton’s gravestone.

“It must have fallen out of your binder one day,” said Frederick.

Alana looked at him, turning red. “This isn’t what I…I mean, I don’t think…You weren’t supposed to see this, I-I was just…”

“Alana, stop,” he said, climbing onto the bed next to her. “I know you don’t feel that way anymore.”

Alana sighed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a much-needed wake up call for me,” said Frederick, taking the paper from her. “I realized that if the sweetest student in the school could wish death upon me, there was _definitely_ something wrong. I decided that I needed to make some changes after that. Not just in school, but in my life in general.”

“So that’s why you made the list,” mumbled Alana to herself.

“What did you say?”

Alana looked sheepishly at Frederick. “I kind of…saw your list of changes,” she said hesitantly. She explained how she saw it on his desk one day after school, although she took out the part about her spying on him.

He flushed and ruffled his hair with his hand. “So, I guess we both have been hiding something, huh?” he said with a nervous chuckle.

Alana smiled. “I guess so,” she said. “But…it’s kind of nice to know that I changed you a bit.”

“Not just a bit,” said Frederick. He leaned over and kissed her deeply, cupping her face in one hand and putting the other on her waist.

Alana traced his lips with her tongue as she pulled him down on top on her. The kiss grew more and more fervent as she ran her hands over his skin under his shirt. Frederick realized when she whimpered that she was getting breathless and lowered his kisses to her jaw, leaving her to gasp in the air. “We really shouldn’t be doing this,” he said as he lowered his mouth to her neck.

“You say that every time,” replied Alana, giggling.

Frederick glared up at her jokingly. “And why don’t you ever listen to me?” he asked in a mock-serious tone.

Alana shrugged nonchalantly. “Because I disagree with you,” she replied simply.

Frederick chuckled shortly before lowering his mouth to her collarbone. “Tell me to stop,” he mumbled against her skin.

Alana wrapped her hand around his head, her fingers tangled with his soft hair. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

Frederick pushed the hem of her shirt up so that her torso was visible. “Tell me to stop,” he repeated.

“Don’t stop.”

He kissed her torso, trailing down towards her navel. “Tell me to stop.”

“Don’t stop.”

“Tell me to stop.”

“Don’t stop.”

He removed her shorts and guided her legs to part. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered, barely audible.

“Don’t stop,” breathed Alana.

Frederick did not ask again.


	19. Waiting for the End of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie and Margot have a talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like this...

Freddie took a long, slow sip of the hot chocolate in her hands. The whipped cream got on her upper lip and she quickly wiped it away with her napkin. She told herself that she shouldn’t feel so self-conscious, but she did. She couldn’t stop fidgeting in her seat and she could tell that Margot was also uncomfortable sitting across from her.

The two of them sat in a small café that they would frequently go on dates when they were together. Freddie had asked to speak with Margot and had thought that it would be easiest to go some place they were used to instead of picking a new spot to meet up in. But it became evident that neither of them really knew how to behave around each other after their less than friendly breakup.

They would see each other at school, but the two of them knew the building so well now that it was easy to duck out of sight when one of them saw the other in the hallway. Who got to sit with their friends at lunch was determined simply by whoever made it to the cafeteria first. It had almost become a routine, even though they had not been broken up for that long. Both girls now knew which hallways to avoid and what times they shouldn’t be at their lockers and everything. It was almost professional.

“Why did you call me here, Freddie?” asked Margot wearily, fiddling with her cappuccino. She had hoped that Freddie had forgiven her for what she did, but the hope to which she was clinging had washed away as soon as she walked into the café and saw the apathetic expression Freddie had on her face when she greeted her.

“I wanted to talk,” replied Freddie simply.

Margot rolled her eyes. “I know that much,” she said. “What about?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” said Freddie.

“Oh yea?”

“Yea.”

Margot waited but Freddie did not speak. She had a neutral expression on her face, but the slight furrow of her brow indicated to Margot that Freddie was nervous. She had always been good at concealing her emotions. “Is there something you want to ask me?” asked Margot.

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

Freddie folded her arms on the table in front of her and leaned forward slightly. “Do you feel bad about sleeping with Will?” she asked.

Margot took a breath. “I won’t lie to you, Freddie,” she said quietly. “Yes, I do feel bad about it, but only because you found out and were hurt.”

Freddie nodded attentively. “And if you hadn’t gotten caught—”

“I wouldn’t regret my actions,” finished Margot. “I stand by what I said last time we spoke. I was protecting you.”

“From Mason.”

“Yes.”

“Why are you so scared of him?”

Margot bit her lip and was quiet for a moment. She had been hiding everything from Freddie for so long that it had become like second nature. Now a conscious effort had to be made to tell the truth. “I don’t think I was ever not scared of him, to be honest,” said Margot at last. “He’s been tormenting me since I can remember, getting progressively more violent. Why wouldn’t I be scared?”

“It’s kind of unbelievable that someone could be like that,” muttered Freddie, stirring her hot chocolate before taking a sip.

“I don’t think it’s that hard to believe,” Margot retorted.

Freddie glared at her. “You know what I meant,” she said.

“Mhm.” Margot took a long gulp of her cappuccino.

Freddie paused, looking down at her mug and playing with the handle. “I’m just saying,” she murmured without looking up, “He didn’t seem all that scary when I met him.”

She had deliberately said the words calmly, as if not wanting to scare Margot, but it was no use. Margot’s head shot up and she almost dropped the drink in her hand. _No._ Her heart sped up and her breath quivered. “You _what?_ ”

“I called him up. Asked if we could meet. Went over to your house on my off period while you were still at school.”

“ _Why!?_ ” Margot said, trying to keep her voice from getting too loud.

“I wanted to know what he was like in person,” said Freddie nonchalantly. “Fucking creepy is what he was.”

Margot shook her head slowly. “I can’t believe you,” she whispered. Her stomach was doing backflips.

“Stop stressing out, Margot,” muttered Freddie, evidently irritated by the reaction she was getting.

 _Well, how the fuck did you expect me to react?!_ “What did you say to him?” Margot asked.

Freddie’s pause and her looking away let Margot know that she wouldn’t like the answer. “What did you say to him!?” she repeated loudly.

“Margot, we are in a café,” Freddie said forcibly. “Will you please lower your voice?”

“Oh, is that why you brought me here, then?” said Margot through gritted teeth, “So that I wouldn’t make a public scene?”

“The thought never crossed my mind,” answered Freddie indifferently.

“Come on,” said Margot, moving to get up. “We can continue this discussion in my car—”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Freddie!”

“Margot.”

Margot took a deep breath and sat back down. She stared at the redhead, anger swirling in her chest and her stomach churning. Freddie looked so completely indifferent towards her now. It was hard to believe that this was the same girl who made Margot feel like she was floating. _You always did have a way with words_ , thought Margot bitterly. _You could make someone feel like they’re the most beautiful thing in the world, or you could make them want to drown themselves in a motel bathtub._ “What did you say to him?” she asked again, her voice low.

“I told him that we were dating.”

Margot could do nothing but inhale sharply. She knew she shouldn’t be too surprised that Freddie would do this, but there was a certain amount of denial in her mind. Well, it was gone now. "What did he say?" she asked, barely audible.

“Nothing, really," she said with a shrug. "I let him know we are broken up, though, don’t worry,” Freddie added after a moment.

“I can’t believe you would do that,” said Margot, completely bewildered. “After everything that happened—”

“Everything that happened? You mean after everything you did?” interrupted Freddie, raising her voice for the first time. “Lied. Lied about who you are and where you live. Lied about your family. Cheated on me. Lied some more.”

“I did that to protect you!” Margot growled, wondering how many more times she would have to repeat herself.

“I don’t believe you!” Freddie countered.

“You made a huge mistake, Freddie” said Margot slowly.

“I’m not scared of him.”

“You should be!”

“Well, I’m not you!”

Margot sunk into her chair. “What does that mean?” she demanded, her voice low.

“It means,” Freddie stated, slowly, deliberately, watching Margot closely, “that I’m not a coward.”

Margot clenched her fists tightly as she felt her skin flush from the pure rage she felt. “You don’t know anything about me,” she said, realizing now how true the words were, “or about what I’ve been through.”

“I know everything that I need to,” said Freddie, her voice just as even and neutral as before.

“You obviously do not,” Margot countered, “If you thought that this was okay, then you really don’t know anything.” She paused and closed her eyes. Her eyes were watering and her voice was shaking. She hated that she couldn’t tell what Freddie was thinking. The girl was far too good and concealing her feelings when need be. Margot took a deep breath before opening her eyes and continuing. “Freddie, I know how horribly things went down,” she said quietly, her voice heavy and full of emotion, “but I still love you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

The corner of Freddie’s lip twitched, but her expression showed no other change or reaction. “Thanks,” she said simply.

Margot stared at her, completely perplexed. How was this the same girl she had fallen in love with? How could the girl who had cared so much suddenly be so heartless? Margot let out a huff of air. “You’re welcome,” she said, smiling for a second from utter bewilderment before gathering her things and standing.

Freddie tilted her head mockingly. “How many more times are you going to walk away from me, Margot?” she asked as Margot turned away.

Margot ground her teeth before answering over her shoulder. “This will be the last,” she said, keeping her voice as calm and as even as she could. “You can bet I won’t be coming anywhere near you again.” With that, she left Freddie to sit alone in the middle of the café.

She didn’t see the tears that poured down the redhead’s face after she had gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm getting close to the end of the fic now! I think there will be about five more chapters.


	20. Get Out the Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has his first session with Hannibal since the attack.

Beverly sat with a distant look on her face, the only movement the lighting tapping of her finger against her chin. Will sat, slightly uncomfortable by his friend’s unnerving glance. She hadn’t been in school since Tuesday. Her suspension was two days, but she had missed Friday as well, so Will hadn’t seen her in five days.

It was in the morning when she and Will were talking that Matthew approached and greeted her. Beverly had initially been confused since she had never interacted with Matt before and, to her knowledge, neither had Will. She was completely perplexed when the stranger gave her friend a kiss before he left for class. Right away, she had demanded that Will give her an explanation, but he said that it was a long story and that he would let her know at lunch.

So naturally, when lunch had come, Bev had grabbed Will and cornered him before he had even had the chance to make it to the cafeteria. They sat on a bench at the end of an empty hall as he told her everything that had taken place on Friday. He explained that Matthew was the reason Lecter had come to school in a leg cast with crutches.

“Fucking served him right,” was all that she had said about it. Up until that point, Beverly, along with the majority of the school, was under the impression that Lecter had had a break-in at his house over the weekend and the robber had broken Lecter’s leg and given him black eye in a hasty attempt to escape. It hadn’t really surprised her that Matthew had been the one to break the guidance counsellor’s leg. Matthew did have a reputation, after all. It also hadn’t surprised her that Will was the one that had asked Matt to do what he did. She knew that he was getting fed up with Lecter and would have done all he could to get him out of his life.

Beverly listened intently as Will, with many flustered pauses and awkward coughs, recounted how he and Matthew got together. This is what left her sitting and staring at him. After a few moments of silence, she spoke. “So you’re gay?”

Will felt his face burn from the bluntness. “No!”

“Bi?”

“I… don’t think so?” Will said in an uncertain tone.

“Then what?”

He frowned. He hadn’t really considered what his sexuality might be. He certainly was still attracted to girls, and he didn’t find any boy other than Matthew even slightly desirable. He scratched his head awkwardly and looked down. “I mean, maybe I… am gay for Mat- ugh, fuck. I don’t know!” Will said. “I’m just dating him.”

Beverly snorted. “Three days,” she said, holding up her fingers. “I was gone for three days and you managed to not only recruit the school delinquent to beat up the abusive guidance counsellor, but also seduce him in the same day.”

“Well, we haven’t really—”

“What the hell is even happening in this place?” Beverly cried suddenly, visibly astonished yet amused by all that had happened.

Will laughed. “I couldn’t tell you,” he said.

Beverly gave his a light-hearted shove. “Come on,” she said, getting up the bench and gesturing Will to follow. “Let’s go find the others and tell them about your new boyfriend.”

“Well, we haven’t actually said we were boyfri—”

“ _Whatever_.”

The rest of Will and Beverly’s group of friends certainly did not have as strong a reaction to Will’s new relationship as Beverly did. That is not to say they weren’t shocked and confused. None of them had ever really seen Will speak with Matthew, but they all seemed to accept it. Jimmy and Alana in particular were supporting, but Brian and Beverly both asked questions throughout lunch that Will didn’t really know how to answer. He desperately wished Matt were with him, especially since his friends (except maybe Brian) wouldn’t ask him all these questions then. But Matthew had to stay in detention at lunch and after school for the week because he got into trouble, which wasn’t really out of the ordinary. Still, it was irritating that Will only saw him in the ten minute breaks they had between classes and in the mornings.

The upside was that Will would at least see Matthew tomorrow after his session with Lecter, which was somehow still something he was required to do, despite everything that had happened. The thought of seeing him again made Will angry and frustrated and anxious, and knowing that Matthew would be done detention around the same time Will would get out of his appointment was reassuring. Matthew would definitely help calm him down.

 

After school the next day, Will sat slumped in his chair across from Hannibal with his arms crossed over his chest. Over twenty minutes had gone by of almost no conversation between the two of them. Will had begun to think that they would pass the hour in silence, with Lecter tapping away on his laptop while Will scrolled through his phone, until the older man finally spoke.

“So what was it, then?” He asked.

Will looked up, wary and uninterested. “What do you mean?”

“What was it that made you want to hurt me?” Asked Lecter, leaning back against his chair with his hands dangling over the arm rests.

“I never hurt you Mr. Lecter,” said Will simply.

“You certainly tried to.”

“On the contrary,” said Will. “ _I_ did not give you that black eye and _I_ did not snap your leg.”

“No, that you did not,” Lecter said idly. “You did not touch me at all.”

Will narrowed his eyes at the counsellor, unsure of where this conversation was heading.

“Does that bother you at all?” Lecter asked after a short pause.

“What?”

“You never got to lay a hand on me.”

Will rolled his eyes. “What would make you think I would have liked to?” he asked.

“Well, it must have felt pretty unsatisfying,” explained Lecter, “To see what you would have liked to do to me being done by someone who…was not you.”

Will ground his teeth in annoyance. “The outcome was quite satisfactory,” he said shortly.

“But you did not have any control,” Lecter replied.

Will watched him for a moment before responding. “I had nothing but control,” he said, slowly and deliberately. “And as long as I got my message across, I don’t really care whose fist it was that met your jaw.”

“And what was your message Will?” Lecter asked, leaning forward. “That you have a friend to hit me?” He crossed his hands on the surface of the desk. “What would happen without him? If he was gone?”

Will managed to keep his expression neutral despite the surge of absolute panic and terror that flew through him. _If you ever come near Matthew, I will kill you with my bare hands._ “It wouldn’t matter,” he said, his voice threatening. “You know what I think of you now.”

Lecter smirked, clearly amused. “Will, I do not think even you know what you think of me.”

“Well, let me spell it out for you,” Will said, leaning forward as well. “I think you are disgusting, manipulative, and abusive. For some reason, you’ve become obsessed with my friends, my future, my entire life in general. And I would like very much for you to become _uninvolved_ in all of those.”

The miniscule twitch of the older man’s lips gave away his offence over Will’s words. “Curiosity is not the same as obsession,” he said defensively.

“No, it is not,” agreed Will. “And you are obsessed.”

Lecter pursed his lips. “And why would I be so interested in you?” He asked after a short moment.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

Lecter did not respond. Instead, he just stared at the boy sitting across for him. His eyes ran over all the delicate lines of Will’s face that were hidden by his glasses. He observed the way his hair fell over his forehead and by his temples. He did not respond to Will’s question and he did not seem to plan on answering him.

Will rolled his eyes and stood. He did not say anything to Lecter, and rather he just gathered his belongings and stood to leave. Being there was a waste of time and talking to him was a waste of breath.

“Why do you think you understand me so well, Will?” Lecter asked when Will reached the door.

The boy stood, facing away from the counsellor with his hand on the door handle. He did not answer, but waited for a response.

“You and I are not so different,” said Lecter simply. “I am much more like you than you realize. And you, much more like me than you would ever care to admit.”

Will took a deep breath through the nose. _I AM NOTHING LIKE YOU!_ He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw punches and thrash around and wreck Lecter’s entire fucking office. But he did not. Will just turned the handle and left the room. He did not see the look on the older man’s face as he left, but he imagined that it was smug. Will hurried down the empty halls of the school, his hands clenched into fists, his fingernails digging almost painfully into the palm of his hands. He paced and stamped around, his face burning and his heart racing. He felt like he was at the tipping point and just wanted to wrap his hands around Lecter’s neck.

He took deep breaths and counted the floor tiles until he calmed down a bit. Not much, but enough to unclench his jaw and start breathing normally. Will sat down on a bench in the hall by his chemistry classroom and leaned his head against the wall. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths in an attempt to get rid of his headache. There were still twenty minutes before Matthew was let out of detention, and he would wait for him. Although, he desperately wanted to be with him, since he always made Will feel calm.

He closed his eyes and listened to the quiet. The school was always so full of noises but now, even the janitorial staff had gone. _It’s kind of nice,_ he thought to himself. _No sounds but my own thoughts…_ And also something else.

Will sat up straight, listening. He could have sworn he heard _something_. Some sort of humming that was too irregular to be from a machine. He stood and, after realizing that the sound was coming from the chemistry classroom, walked towards the door.

He had figured that someone had just left a burner on by accident or something. He would go in there, shut it off, and go back to waiting for Matthew on the bench in the hallway.

He had not been prepared for what was on the other side of the door when he pushed it open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW I KNOW I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!  
> I have been _so_ busy for the past few weeks, but I am developing a routine so hopefully the rest of the chapters won't take so long to update. Of course, they won't be uploading as quickly as they were in the summer because university has begun and I'm sure you guys know how that it. (Maybe.)  
>  Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please leave comments letting me know what you thought!!!


	21. Little Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana and Frederick decide to meet up after school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy :)

“Dr. Chilton?”

Frederick looked up at the student standing in front of his desk. “Yes, Miss Bloom?” It was a Tuesday afternoon and he was teaching AP chemistry. Or at least, he was supervising the students as they worked on the equations he had written on the board. Alana stood in front of him in the purple cotton dress that she knew he loved and her hair falling softly over her shoulders. Giving him a flirtatious smile, she played idly with one of the thin straps that didn’t do much in covering the straps of the pink bra she wore. She knew it was one of Frederick’s favourites. She liked to tease him like this at school sometimes, when she knew he couldn’t do anything about it. It drove him insane.

“I finished the extra credit assignment you gave,” said Alana.

Frederick raised his eyebrows. “Well, you do know that you still have awhile before the deadline for that, right?” he said. “And that it won’t make all that much of a difference on your mark, which is already in the 90s?”

Alana smiled and shrugged. “Every bit counts, right?”

Frederick smiled and nodded. “That’s true. Would you like to meet at lunch some time, then?” He tapped on his computer. “I have a staff meeting today, but we can set something up for tomorrow?” he said. “Unless you wouldn’t mind staying after school today.”

“I’m fine with after school,” Alana said indifferently.

“Alright. I’ll see you in here at three.”

Alana smiled and slung back to her seat. It was difficult to suppress a smile, but Frederick did it anyway. He always felt like he was being too nice to her, but she assured him that he was treating her just as every other student. He watched her from the corner of his eye as she sat next to her friends, talking and joking and laughing and asking each other the answers to the difficult questions. It always got him down when he saw her like that, because he knew he couldn’t be so open with her as she was with her friends. He would only ever see Alana in school or at his house, and in school they had to act professionally. He couldn’t take her out to dinners or to the movies or for walks. She deserved those things. She deserved to be treated to things like that, but they weren’t possible. At least not yet.

And Frederick did plan on being with her a long time. He imagined introducing her to his family and taking her on vacations, spending countless nights together, and laying in bed all day with her. He felt that he was more than prepared for the strange looks they would get. Seeing a young girl dating someone who is 19 years her senior is more than a bit weird, but he didn’t care.

That is to say, he didn’t care what other people thought of the age difference. There always were and will be times when he felt like it would be better to end things with Alana. She made him so happy, but it seemed like she thought a bit too much of him at times. He was not as impressive as she believes him to be. He is educated, and maybe his pretentiousness is what made him come across to her as important, but in reality, he doubted she would ever date someone like him if she had met him outside of the classroom.

The biggest issue was the age difference. There were definitely advantages of Frederick being more experienced than Alana. He liked to think that he made her more comfortable in her own skin. She was so shy in so many aspects before: not letting onto what she wanted from fear of coming across as pushy, making sure she woke up before him when she slept over so she could brush her teeth and avoid morning breath, always worrying about whether her legs were shaved, putting his desires ahead of her own, being intimidated constantly by her lack of experience in so many of the things they did. It took awhile for Frederick to catch onto how she felt, but when he did, he made sure to let her know how little he cared about those things. And so, Alana became more open, more relaxed around him because she knew he wouldn’t judge her.

And Frederick benefitted from being with someone younger as well. He was laughing more than he had in most of his past relationships and he liked having someone whose thoughts were so different than his. Alana gave him a new perspective and he felt so needed. She saw things so differently than he did and her views and outlooks on things were so new to him. He had heard what his peers had to say about pretty much everything so getting the opinions of an 18-year-old was definitely like an outsider’s perspective.

But that was also a problem. Frederick had lived so much of his life whereas Alana’s life had barely even begun. She had never lived on her own, she still had to ask permission to stay over at her friend’s house for the night, and she was currently worrying about scholarships and student loans. As independent as she may be, Alana was not as independent as she could be, and there was a constant hum in the back of Frederick’s mind that she could not become independent and be with him at the same time. If she stayed with him after she left high school instead of going off on her own, then there would always be some sort of adult influence over her. He would affect her decisions.

Would she want to go out to parties at college and meet boys? Would she want to gossip with her roommates about boyfriends and cute professors? What if she will want these memories when she goes off on her own? Would she have that on-our-own-for-the-first-time experience that every first year college student should have?

Frederick shook these thoughts from his head. There was plenty of time to worry about that so he decided to just focus on today. As the end of the day approached, he found himself growing more and more excited, and he did his best to try to contain the emotion as much as he could, but other faculty members did notice that he was happier than usual. Fortunately, he was able to play it off and say that he was just in a particularly good mood.

He did not spend time alone with Alana outside of his house and he would love to be able to speak openly to her in public, even if it was in the classroom of a near-empty school. And she seemed to feel the same way, or else she wouldn’t have asked to talk about the assignment.

Frederick was a bit surprised, though, when Alana stood in front of his desk with her assignment in her hand and started asking him if she had a thorough enough understanding of catalysts or if she should research some more.

“Wait a minute,” said Frederick, “You actually wanted to show me your assignment?”

Alana blushed. “Well, yes,” she said timidly. “I would still like to have some extra credit.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me when we were over at my place?”

She fiddled with her assignment. “I kind of wanted to leave our school life and our private life separate,” she explained. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Frederick chuckled. “No, of course not,” he said. “Why don’t you pull up a chair and I will start to look over this?”

Roughly forty minutes later, Frederick and Alana had finished with her assignment. It wouldn’t have taken as long as it did if they hadn’t gotten off on several flirtatious tangents throughout the entire process. Frederick had quickly gotten up to turn the ventilation fan on, which had left the room to be filled with a loud, uneven buzzing sound. He also drew the blind over the small window of the classroom to make sure what was happening wasn’t heard or seen from the hallways. Not that they were doing anything wildly inappropriate, but it would definitely be strange for a janitor to see a teacher with his hand on the small of a student’s back while he looked over her research papers.

“You’re going to do so well in university,” said Frederick.

Alana smiled up at him from her seat in front of his desk. “I hope so,” she said.

“Are you nervous?” He asked.

Alana bit her lip and nodded. “Really nervous,” she said.

Frederick smiled and offered her his hand. He leaned his cane against the desk as she stood so he could hold both her hands in his. “Don’t be,” he murmured. “You’re going to love it. Trust me.”

She smiled as he stroked her cheek gently with a hand before leaning down and kissing her. She pulled away and giggled. “You know, I should probably head home,” she murmured as Frederick gave her pecks along her jawline. “Since there is no more to discuss about the extra credit…”

“I can make this part of the extra credit, if you’d like,” answered Frederick against her skin.

She laughed. “Should we be doing this here?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Probably not,” he said. Still, he pressed his lips against Alana’s again and pulled her to him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as Frederick manoeuvred them so that Alana was pinned against the desk. She ran her tongue along his lips and laced her fingers through his soft hair as he squeezed her waist and pressed his body against hers. With slight discomfort and difficulty, Alana was able to lift herself to sit on the desk without breaking contact with Frederick, who stood between her knees. At this point, her senses were becoming hyperaware and her heart fluttered every time he sighed against her skin.

Frederick placed his hand on her thigh, stroking her skin before sliding it up under the skirt of her dress. “You looked so fucking irresistible in this dress today,” he groaned against her lips. “I could barely focus on anything else with you looking at me the way you do.”

“I can’t think about anything but you whenever I’m in here,” Alana moaned back. Frederick let out a heavy breath at her confession and moved his lips away from her mouth and to her neck. He ground his hips against her crotch as both his hands came to rest along just the edges of her underwear.

Alana had her head tossed back and her eyes closed. She let out a content sigh and smiled at the contact, but she wanted more. She grabbed at Frederick’s shirt and opened her eyes to look at him.

But instead, her eyes noticed the figure standing in the doorway of the classroom. Her heart sped up and a feeling of complete terror overtook her. “ _Oh my god,_ ” she breathed, roughly pushing Frederick away from her.

Frederick’s face completely drained of colour when he realised what had happened. “Fuck!” he uttered, turning his back from the door to fix his clothes, but it didn’t matter anymore. Will quickly turned and walked away from them, rushing down the hallway.

Alana jumped off the desk and, before Frederick even said a word, raced after Will. “Will!” she cried as she tried to catch up to him. “Will, wait!”

Will stopped and turned around so quickly that Alana almost ran into him. “What the fuck did I just see!?’ he growled at her. She opened her mouth but he cut her off before she could say anything.“You know what, don't say anything,” he said through clenched teeth. “The issue is not what I saw, but how I'm going to _unsee_ it.”

“Will please, please don't tell anyone!” Alana pleaded, stepping closer him.

“What are you even thinking?” Will snapped. “I mean, I knew you were obsessed with schoolwork and extra credit and all that shit, but this is taking it a bit far, don't you think?”

Alana’s eyes widened as she registered the implications of what he just said. “Will!” She squealed.

“That's what you're doing, isn't it?” spat Will. “Fucking him to get a better mark?”

“What! No!” Alana cried, both hurt and mortified by his accusations. She had never seen him look so angry. “Do you really think I would do that?”

“I don't know what you would _do_ , Alana, I _clearly_ don't know you,” Will snarled.

“I'm not doing it for that,” she whimpered.

Will’s eyebrows knotted together and he stepped towards his friend. “Is he forcing you into this?” he whispered.

“What?”

“Because if he is, I can help you,” he said. “I will go with you to Crawford or to your parents, or to the police. I can help you—”

“No!”

“You don't have to be scared of him, Alana!” Will said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “What he's doing is wrong and—”

“Will, I want this,” interrupted Alana shakily. “I want him, I… I like him.”

He dropped his arms and stepped away. “Alana, you can't do this.”

She raised her chin and squared her shoulders, finding enough courage in herself to look her friend in the eye. “You can't tell me what I can and can't do, Will,” she stated firmly.

“This is _wrong_.”

“No it isn't!” said Alana. “Look, we'll be graduating in less than two months, okay? I'm already 18 so it's not even illegal! Besides we only started this a few weeks ago—”

“He's your teacher, Alana!”

“It's not like we planned this, Will,” she told him, keeping her voice as calm as she could, though it was hard to keep it from quivering. “I can honestly tell you, it was a huge surprise for the both of us.”

“Why are you doing this?” Will whispered.

Alana sighed. “I don't expect you to understand. Just please, _please,_ promise you won't tell anyone. Please.”

Will’s jaw stiffened and his eyes narrowed. “Fine,” he muttered.

“Thank you so—”

“Do _not_ thank me,” he growled. “I don't even want to think about what I just saw, let alone tell anyone.”

Alana frowned. “I'm sorry—”

“Why are you saying sorry?” Will sneered. “You aren't sorry.”

She scowled and looked down at her feet. “I'm sorry to put this on you,” she whispered sheepishly.

“Whatever,” muttered Will, indifferent to her obvious humiliation. “I think you'd better get back to Chilton now. He's probably still hard.” With that, he turned and continued down the hallway.

Alana watched him until he turned the corner before burying her face in her hands. “Shit,” she hissed against her palms. “ _Fuck._ ” She stood like that for a minute, shaking and trying to keep from sobbing before heading back to Frederick’s classroom.


	22. Hay Loft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mason's plan is revealed to Margot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song is the song that got me into Mother Mother so you guys should give it a listen! Enjoy the chapter :)

It was early Friday evening when Mason swung open the door to Margot’s bedroom while she was doing homework. He pulled the headphones out of her ears and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Hello, my dear sister,” he said.

Margot stiffened as he took her shoulders firmly in his hands. “What do you want, Mason?”

“I want you to come with me,” he says, tightening his grip. “I have something to show you.”

“I’m busy.”

Mason pulled her up to her feet. “You might want to postpone what you’re doing for this,” he said. “Otherwise, you won’t like the end result.”

Margot glared at him but didn’t say anything.

“Now that I think about it,” he added, “You wouldn’t like the end result whether you come or not.”

“So why should I go with you?”

Mason shrugged. “One of us might as well get something out of this,” he said. “Now come on.”

He led Margot to the car waiting in the driveway, not letting go of her arm as he went. She was terrified at first, not knowing where she was being taken, but after about a mile, she realized that they were headed to their farm. Every time she asked him what they were about to go see, he told her that she would just have to wait and see.

He led her into the building by the stables. They stood on a metal platform which was empty save for a shovel and a wheelbarrow. She could see hay-covered ground underneath them. It was large and hallow except for the hallow tubs in the centre for feeding. “This is what I wanted to show you,” said Mason, almost bouncing on his heels with excitement.

“What is it?” Margot asked.

“A pigpen! Isn’t it wonderful?”

She narrowed her eyes at her brother. “Sure…”

“No, you don’t understand,” Mason said, stepping to her and draping his arm over her shoulder. “This platform is at twelve feet above the ground! Could you just _imagine_ if someone were to fall in!”

Margot took in a sharp breath as Mason nudged her forward at the last two words, but didn’t resist him.

“And if the pigs were in there…” Mason continued, “Well, they would love to have someone to play with.”

“You would certainly know what pigs like, wouldn’t you?” muttered Margot.

Mason laughed. “Your mouth gets rough when you’re scared, Margot,” he remarked, moving his arm from her shoulder to grab her elbow. This time, he pushed her forward roughly, almost causing her to lose her footing altogether.

“Don’t worry, I got yah!” He mocked as Margot grabbed onto his coat instinctively.

“Mason—”

“I just want you to have a better look!” He exclaimed. “What do you think? Will your friend like it?”

This caused Margot to turn to Mason in confusion. “What?”

Mason didn’t answer but she got her reply seconds later in the form of a voice in the distance but coming closer. “Let go of me!” cried the voice

Margot’s heart dropped to her stomach and she felt like she’s been drained of her blood. _No._

“Ah, here she is!” cried Mason as one of his, what he called, ‘personal assistants’ entered the building whilst half-dragging a vocal, struggling girl behind him. “Great work, Carlo!”

Margot felt her lips move and she heard her voice, but she swore she didn’t control it when she cried out, “Freddie?!”

The redhead froze and fell silent when she saw Margot. The girls stood for a second, staring at each other across the wide space. “Mason, what is she doing here?” asked Margot after a moment, trying to keep her voice from quivering, but at this point it didn’t matter if she kept calm or if she starting screaming and crying. Mason had seen the look on Margot’s face when Freddie entered and he had heard the sheer horror in her voice.

“I wanted to show her the farm!” exclaimed Mason. He let go of her arm and held in out towards Carlo. “And the pigpen.”

“The pigpen?” repeated Freddie, not struggling now against Carlo, who was holding her arms behind her back.

“Mason, no,” Margot said quietly, her voice sounding dangerously similar to a plea.

“Bring her here, Carlo.”

“No!” Margot cried, pushing Carlo away as he approached, but he stuck her across the face, causing her to fall to her hands and knees.

This seemed to snap Freddie out of her shock. “What are you doing!?” she screamed, struggling again against Carlo’s grip, and then against Mason’s as he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her hair back with the other. She gasped as her head was pulled back. Mason seemed completely indifferent as she dug the nails of her free hand into his to get him to let go.

Margot looked up at her brother from the ground. “Mason—”

“This, Margot,” said Mason as he gestured to Freddie, “is for the pigs.” He nodded at Carlo, who turned and left the platform.

Margot picked herself up and watched Carlo leave. She did not move to help Freddie. “Where is he going?” she asked Mason.

He gestured with his head up to a loft with a small window just above the platform. “Up there,” he said.

“What’s up there?”

Before she got an answer, Carlo appeared at the window. Margot could not see what he was doing but she soon heard a low buzzing sound. She turned and saw gates at the end of the pigpen opening and countless hogs poured in. After the gates closed again, Mason spoke. “What do you think would happen if someone were to go in?” he asked quietly.

Margot looked down at the pigs: all gigantic, all sniffing around for food, and at that moment, she knew what her brother wanted. “Pigs don’t eat people, Mason,” she said weakly.

Mason laughed a loud, bellowing laugh that made Margot shudder. “I thought you said _I_ was the pig expert, Margot!” he said. “These are _special_ pigs! Since you never come up to the farm anymore, you don’t know that over the course of this past year, I’ve trained them to eat certain things. Like live rodents. Barrels of raw meat… Screaming girls.”

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as he let go of Freddie’s hair and moved his hand to the small of her back to push her in. “No!” she screamed.

“ _NO!”_ Margot closed the distance between her and Freddie, tackling her and pushing her away from the edge of the platform. Mason seemed to have been expecting this and, almost without any effort, he grabbed her and, twisting her arm behind her, pushed Margot to the ground. “You’re going to wish you didn’t do that, Margot,” he hissed in her ear. “Now, I was hoping to push your lovely little _friend_ in first, but I guess you deserve it just as much for lying to me the way you did.” He straightened up and stamped on her back so that Margot fell flat against the ground. “So, Miss Lounds,” he said, turning, “How would you—wait, where’d she go?”

Margot looked up as Mason looked at the empty space where Freddie was pushed. He turned his head to look around for her, not registering the footsteps coming from behind him until it was too late.

Freddie had grabbed the shovel that leaned against the wall and charged towards Mason, hitting him over the head with it. His glasses flew off his face and his head bent to the side as he was knocked down into the pigpen.

Dropping the shovel, Freddie leaned down and helped Margot to stand. “Are you okay?” she asked, standing at arm’s length away from her.

Margot stood, clutching her arm where Mason had stamped on it. She wanted more than anything to hug the redhead, but she stood still in her spot. “I’m okay,” she said coolly, even though she was quite sure her arm was broken. She turned and looked down at her brother’s body.

Mason laid still and unconscious, his body twisted in strange angles as the pigs sniffed at him. Most tugged at his clothing with their mouths but some bit into his exposed flesh. Soon, the other pigs followed suit and they were all trying to get a piece of him. Carlo came running, calling out to Mason. He ignored the girls as he climbed down the ladder into the pen and tried to get through the pigs to the defenseless body on the ground.

Margot and Freddie stood still and quietly as they looked down at the scene unfolding beneath them. It was horrendous, but neither of them screamed or cried, or showed really any sign of being terrified. Margot did not scream because what was happening to Mason was exactly what he deserved, and because she was accustomed to violence. Her guess was that Freddie did not scream simply because she was braver than anyone she’d knwon. Or maybe she was just heartless. That wouldn’t really surprise her, either.

Freddie was the first to break the silence. “I still don’t like what you did,” she said, her voice so low that it was barely heard over the chaos below them. “But I guess I understand.”

Margot looked at her, her eyes willing Freddie to meet her gaze, willing her to admit to the monster that Mason was, willing her to apologize for getting involved in all this, willing her to take her into her arms and hold her tightly. But Freddie did none of those things. Instead, she kept staring at Carlo, who was now dragging Mason away from the pigs and towards the ladder.

Margot took a deep breath and took a step back. Maybe Freddie really wasn’t the girl she was when they were together. At least not anymore. “We should call an ambulance,” she said, turning to leave the building. She did not check to see if Freddie followed. But at this point, she didn’t particularly care.

Or at least that’s what she told herself.


	23. Infinitesimal

Hannibal eyed Alana from across the dinner table. She was lost in thought once again, like she had been quite a few times the past few dinners they had shared. This time, the Blooms hosted dinner and Alana’s father was out on the balcony participating what seemed to be a very intense business call. Her mother was in the kitchen, preparing dessert. Alana had been helping before but she was so distracted that her mother sent her back to the table

And so she sat, eyes down, sighing and tracing little swirls on the tablecloth with her ring finger.

“Is there something you would like to speak about Alana?” asked Hannibal.

Alana looked up, surprised slightly, as if she had forgotten she was not alone. “Sorry?”

“You seem distracted. Do you have anything in particular on your mind?”

She shook her head no and Hannibal nodded, dropping the subject and standing up and heading into the kitchen to help with dessert. Alana sunk down in her chair. There was a dull aching in the back of her head that had been there since Will caught her and Frederick in his classroom. After he had stormed off, Alana returned to the classroom to find a panicking, pacing Frederick.

“That’s it,” he said, barely even looking at her when she walked in, “It’s over. I’m done.”

“Frederick—”

“Everyone is going to know now,” he continued, “Everyone is—”

“No, they aren’t,” Alana said, approaching him. “Will said he won’t say a thing.”

“But how do you know you can trust him?” asked Frederick forcefully.

“I can!”

“But—”

“I can trust him, and you have to trust me,” she said. “Nothing’s going to happen, I promise.”

Frederick exhaled and looked at Alana fully, looking conflicted. It was a moment before he spoke. “Maybe we should end this,” he murmured.

Alana felt her heart drop to her stomach. “What?”

“I mean, it’s clear that we’re going to get caught,” he said quickly. “We just _did_.” He ran his hands over his face and started pacing again. “If Will does go to Crawford, we can easily deny all this. Jack mentioned a while ago that Will hasn’t been in a good position so we could just say he’s been acting out. It’ll be no problem…”

Alana watched as he rambled on about how to proceed but she wasn’t listening. She was still fixated on him wanting to end their relationship. “You’re breaking up with me?” She interrupted him quietly, instantly feeling her face flush and tears starting to fill her eyes.

Frederick looked at her, grief taking over his entire body. His shoulders sagged, his knees bent slightly, and his eyebrows knitted together. She had said what she said so quietly, so sombrely, and it hit him suddenly what it really was that he was suggesting. “Alana, listen—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she said quickly, taking a step back. “We’re over. I get it. I… I guess I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” With that, she turned to leave, but Frederick grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to look at him. Her tears spilled at the gesture and soon there were streaks down both her cheeks.

“Alana, I don’t want to end this,” he clarified. “I’m just really freaked out about what’s happened.”

“Well, so am I,” she said, “But I told you! We can handle this!”

“I know! Sweetheart, I know,” Chilton said, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. “I’m sorry, I just panicked. But this isn’t the end of us.”

“Frederick, Will won’t say a word to Crawford, I _swear_ ,” she said. “We just have to keep away from each other at school and it’ll all be okay…”

“You’re right, you’re right,” he said quickly, bringing her in for a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Alana knew that he wasn’t completely convinced that they would get away with this, and that he was only saying that he was so that she would stop freaking out, but she didn’t know what else to say to him. There was nothing else that they could do now; they just had to wait to see if Will says something or doesn’t.

Alana pulled away from him and turned to leave. “I’ll call you later,” she declared, not waiting for a response. Her head was pounding and she needed rest. Maybe this will blow over in no time.

That was almost an entire week ago.

She looked up now, her mind returning to the present as Hannibal and her mother walked in carrying desserts. They set them at the table and Hannibal sat, but her mother mumbled something about being rude and announced that she was going to get Alana’s father.

Once she was alone with Hannibal again, Alana spoke. “Hannibal?”

“Yes, Alana?”

“…Never mind.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows at her. “You can ask me whatever you like, Alana.”

She took a breath and tried to come across as relaxed, but she knew how bad a liar she was. “I was just wondering how Will is doing?” she asked. “I know you meet with him once a week.”

“What do you ask?” asked Hannibal.

“I just haven’t spoken to him in awhile,” Alana explained. It was true. He’d been avoiding spending lunch with the group because he didn’t want to talk to her. “He has been spending his lunches with his boyfriend lately.”

This caught Hannibal’s attention. “Boyfriend?”

“Yes,” said Alana. “Do you know Matthew Brown? They’re dating.”

“I didn’t realize Will was—”

“Into guys? Me neither,” Alana shrugged. “He says that their relationship wasn’t planned or anything, just happened.”

“Actually, I was going to say that I didn’t realize he was intimate with anyone,” Hannibal said quietly.

“Well he doesn’t generally talk much about his personal life,” said Alana. “Though I thought you would have known more than me.”

Hannibal looked at Alana. “I cannot speak to you about my sessions with Will, Alana,” he said, giving her a small smile.

“Right. Of course. I understand.”

“I don’t see why you can’t just speak with him,” Hannibal added. “It shouldn’t be so hard to catch him between classes, and don’t you have chemistry with him?”

Alana frowned. “Well, yes, but… he’s sort of mad at me.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

She sunk lower in her chair. “I’d rather not talk about it,” she sighed. “He hasn’t spoken to me since Tuesday.”

“I see,” said Hannibal thoughtfully. “He did seem a bit angry during our session that day. Maybe that was why.”

“Oh, no, this happened after that.”

“After? Were you at school at that time?”

Alana nodded quickly. “Yea, I was discussing an extra credit project with Freder- with Dr. Chilton.” She bit her lip quickly, hoping Hannibal didn’t catch on to her slip.

Thankfully, he merely nodded and Alana relaxed. “I see,” he said.

 

Later that evening, Hannibal called Frederick. He asked him to come over for dinner and Frederick agreed.

“Wonderful,” said Hannibal. “I have something that I would love to discuss with you.”


	24. Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margot interrupts Matthew and Will's date with some news

Matthew’s parents were away for the weekend and had left the entire house to him from Friday afternoon to late Sunday night. Will let his parents know that he was going to stay over at a friend’s house for the weekend. He hadn’t told them he was dating Matt simply because they wouldn’t want him to sleep over with someone he was with because they would find it inappropriate. Will was nervous. At this point, he and Matthew hadn’t done much other than hug and kiss, but that would change this weekend. They had discussed it and Will explained that he had never been with a guy before and Matt was understanding and said that his comfort was most important. This made Will want him more.

It was a rainy afternoon in late April when Matthew drove Will over to his empty house. The unpaved driveway was muddy and the dirt stained their pants as they ran inside in an attempt to stay as dry as possible, but they were not very successful. The two laughed as they dried off and changed clothes, but while Will had one leg through his pants, a shirtless Matt pulled him into a kiss.

The two fell onto the nearest surface—a couch—and lay together, intertwined. Their fingers explored each other’s body as well as their mouths, but before they could lose another layer of clothing, there was a loud knocking at the door.

The two pulled away from each other. Will looked up at Matthew. “Are you expecting someone?” He asked, slightly out of breath.

“No,” Matt said, pushing himself up off the sofa. He grabbed his shirt and Will followed suit, pulling his pants on properly and following Matthew to the door. He was not pleased when he saw who was behind it.

“Hi, Matt,” said Margot. “Will,” she added, looking past Matt at him.

Will clenched his jaw but didn’t reply.

“Is there something I could do for you, Margot?” asked Matt.

“I just have something I would like to let you know,” she explained. “ _Both_ of you.”

Will wasn’t pleased, clearly, but he turned and walked back into the living room. Matthew took that as a cue to let Margot in. The three of them sat together in the living room. Matt with his arm slung casually over Will’s shoulder, relaxed as he always was, while Margot, wet and shivering from the rain, sat opposite them. Matthew had offered her a towel but she had refused, saying she wouldn’t be long.

“What do you have to tell us?” asked Matt.

“Probably something to do with Mason,” Will said.

“It is,” confirmed Margot.

“Does it also explain your broken arm?” asked Will.

“Yes.”

“Go on, then.”

Margot looked at her arm, which was in a cast, held up by the sling dangling from her shoulders. “How much of an explanation do you need for this, really?” she stated. “Mason already broke two of your ribs, Will.”

Will gave her a sour look. “And that was your fault,” he said bitterly. “Was your broken arm your fault as well?”

“No. It was Freddie’s.”

The boys both straightened up a bit, not having expected her being mentioned. Margot sat back and explained to them the events that had taken place. Every bit of it. From the fight and the breakup, to the meeting at the café, to the attack at the farm. The boys listened attentively, quiet for the most part, except for when they had questions for clarification. The story took longer to recount than Margot had expected, but she hadn’t talked out loud about it yet and she guessed she never realized just how much she had to say about it.

By the end of it all, her teeth were clenched and her muscles were stiff. It had been so long since she’d been inside that she couldn’t blame the cold if she started shaking. She just looked at the boys and waited for them to respond.

Matthew spoke first. “How is Freddie doing?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” answered Margot truthfully. “I haven’t spoken to her since that day.

“Why not?”

“There wasn’t a reason to.”

Will spoke up at this. “Bullshit,” he said simply.

“Excuse me?” asked Margot, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Bullshit,” he repeated. “Why are you not calling her.”

She ground her teeth for a minute, wondering if it would be of any use to lie to him. “She doesn’t want to hear from me,” she said eventually.

“And how do you know that?”

Margot leaned forward. “Were you not listening to what I just told you?” she asked angrily.

“I was,” he replied calmly. “But you still don’t _know_ that she doesn’t want to hear from you.”

“She _doesn’t._ ”

“You should call her anyway,” said Will.

“No!” Margot replied.

“You should at least _try,_ ” insisted Will.

Margot looked at him, puzzled. She wasn’t expected him to encourage her. “There is no point,” she said, lowering her voice. “I’ve lost her already.”

Matt spoke this time. “If you lose her like this, then you never had her,” he said simply.

Margot looked at him, unsure of what he meant.

“If she loved you even half as much as you do her, she would never let you go,” he expanded, “Even after all this. If you lose her now, that just means you never had her.”

“Well, I did,” said Margot feebly. She felt the heaviness that she had been carrying around in her chest grow in size. “I did lose her already, so I guess she was never mine.”

“No, you didn’t lose her yet,” said Will. “You haven’t even tried to get her. You’ve barely scratched the surface of being hers.”

Margot looked curiously at him but didn’t say anything. When she remained silent, he continued. “She knows you now, Margot,” he said. “ _Truly_ knows you. Knows who you are and what you’ve been through, along with what you are capable of. Now you need to go up to her and make clear what you want and only then can you decide whether you’ve lost her.”

Margot ducked her head in contemplation. The words swam behind her eyelids when she closed her eyes and thought about the possibility. It terrified her.

“You love her, Margot.”

She looked up.

“Don’t let Mason take away yet another thing from you,” said Will.

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, before Matthew spoke. “Would you like anything to eat, Margot?” he asked.

Margot shook her head. “No, thank you,” she said, standing. “I really should be going, actually. Thank you for letting me crash your date night for a bit.”

“No problem, just don’t let it happen again,” Matt said jokingly.

Margot didn’t smile. Instead, she looked at Will. “I really am sorry about what Mason did to you, Will,” she said. “I know it was awful.”

Will looked at her a moment, then sighed. “I mean, I guess I’ve already forgiven you,” he said. _Plus I doubt I’d be with Matthew if you hadn’t done what you did._

Margot smiled. “I’ll see you both on Monday, then,” she said.

The boys agreed and walked her out. As Matthew closed the door behind her, he asked Will, “Do you think she’ll talk to Freddie?”

He shrugged. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Matt nodded. “I know what we can do while we wait,” he said suggestively.

“Does it involve a bed?”

Matt smiled in response and took Will’s hand to lead him to his bedroom. Before long, they were lying in Matthew’s single bed in his messy, tiny bedroom with their clothes off. Will ran his hands over the skin of Matthew’s back while Matt traced kissed down his neck. “Are you nervous?” he asked.

Will closed his eyes and gulped. “A bit.”

“Do you trust me?” asked Matt.

Will nodded. “Of course.”

Matthew gave him a slow kiss before moving away to give him room. “Turn over,” he said.

Will took a deep breath, waited until the hammering in his chest died down enough so he could hear the rain pattering and the wind howling from the open window, and did as he was told.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments always appreciated!


End file.
